


Pressure Points

by EffortlesslyUncool



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Developing Friendships, F/F, Female Friendship, Femslash, Flirtationship, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Friends to Lovers, I Don't Even Know, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Idiots in Love, Implied Femslash, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Pre-Femslash, Pre-Relationship, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Yur
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-01-09 01:17:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12265971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EffortlesslyUncool/pseuds/EffortlesslyUncool
Summary: After sustaining an injury, Aerith asks Tifa to show her the principles of self defense. Pre-pairing Aerith x Tifa, a collection of drabbles set within the original game, looking at potential for flirtation-ship between the fighter and the flower girl within the love triangle.~OR~Tifa's big gay epiphany.AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yes, it has been a while since I've posted an update but I have NOT abandoned this fic.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the characters or content in this fic. Only the story line, in which I am their puppet master.
> 
> The foundation of this fic is based on the original game's timeline of events, and Pressure Points is set loosely in between the major parts of the story line. Because most of you reading this already know FFVII like the back of your hands, I won't be including too much of the plot in my fiction; only enough so that my writing makes sense to convey what could have happened if Tifa and Aerith were romantically interested in eachother.

Nimble hands pulled her legs to rest over Tifa's crossed ones. The younger woman tugged the clasps and pulled her gauntlets off, setting them down to their side. Aerith observed them closer, seeing blotches of red and purple bleeding from the capillaries into the surrounding flesh of Tifa's knuckles. She has to be in pain herself, she mulled. The fighter shows no inclination to discomfort though, as she discards Aerith's boots and begins to assess the injury to the flower girl's ankle. She always seems impervious to pain, and in the heat of a battle; her chocolate wine coloured eyes shine as if she enjoys it. Tifa Lockhart is a curious beast.

"You must think of me as a real fool," Aerith winced, as Tifa pressed and probed her musculature. "-Ouch!"

The flickering light of the fire did nothing to help determine the extent of the damage Aerith had inflicted by vaulting like a gymnast to parry an attack aimed at her friend's flank. She was successful, however she landed poorly. The embers of their fire cast a warm light over Tifa's delicate facial features, though. Aerith noted her heart shaped face, the arch of her manicured brow and the slightest slant to her eyes sheathed by lustrous dark lashes which bore no mascara. Her elegant tear drop earrings caught the light, sparkling against Tifa's cascade of hair. Tifa yields an earthly beauty about her, but is as modest as they come.

"You're not a fool. You could have just let me take my punishment, though. I clocked him with a fair upper cut." She raised her gaze to meet Aerith's eyes, her smile antagonizing. "For all that I can't see under this lighting, I don't think you have anything more serious than a sprained ankle."

Aerith instinctively grabbed for her staff, eyes searching for cure materia. Tifa threw her hand between her and the green orb.

"Don't waste your energy…you need your rest. Let me bind your foot and that should ease your discomfort."

Aerith exhaled a sigh, pouting. "You're babying me." She appreciated the gesture, but pondered her weaknesses. She would never break free from her damsel image with the way that Tifa and Cloud coddled her like a defenseless child. She had grown up in the slums after all - and had managed to evade the Turks on numerous occasions.

"I am not! I just care about you." Their eyes met briefly, as Tifa unwound a measure of tape. A deft hand pressed into the soul of her foot, Aerith recoiled. "I am so sorry! I didn't hurt you did I?"

"No, no… I am going to sound so silly but I have ticklish feet," she giggled at the confession. The curve of a smile slanted at Tifa's mouth and her cheek bones raised to allow a grin to envelop her face.

"I'm glad. That's not a major pressure point and I was worried you had hurt yourself worse than I thought…" Tifa wound the tape from the ball of the Cetra's foot, pulling the tape taut and binding her ankle. She was firm and assertive. Her handiwork complete, she patted Aerith's calf as if to tell her she was good to lift her legs from Tifa's crossed ones.

Aerith didn't move, though. Engaging in introspection, she folded her arms over her knees and her chin came to rest on them. "You ought to teach me basic principles of physical combat."

The brawler's brow arched, her tone amused. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Self defense obviously, silly. Worried that I might take over your roll?"

"Har har. You're a quick learner but you have a long way to go…" Tifa's hands palmed Aerith's calves, though she retreated slightly as if she felt she was overstepping a boundary.

"Hey you, I didn't tell you to stop!" She wasn't crossing any boundaries as far as Aerith was concerned.

"Nuh uh. You didn't tell me to anything." The smile plastered on Tifa's face was nothing short of cute, Aerith determined.

She enjoyed watching Tifa's shy personality peak out from her shell, and she tried to nurture that whenever she had a chance. But Tifa was right where fighting was being considered; hand to hand combat was her domain. Aerith was confidant that if it weren't for mako enhancements, she would rival SOLDIER.

She was just as agile as Cloud was, she harnessed raw power in her feminine frame. Not just for having a pretty face, Tifa's prowess commanded the respect of their male counterparts whereas Aerith was barely coming into her own as an adept materia user. In other circumstances, Tifa's inner lioness had surfaced to disbar the asinine bickering between Cloud and Barret and left the two men scratching their heads like naughty school boys.

She wasn't jealous of Tifa by any measure, rather in awe of her friend. She supposed she considered herself blessed to have found friendship in her, in spite of their stand-off-ish introduction in the sector six sex dungeon.

Aerith spoke out again as Tifa leaned backward on her palms, "I never try to compete with you, you know that right?"

Tifa's gaze drifted into the fire, Aerith supposed she was brooding over their assumed competition over Cloud.

It wasn't entirely ridiculous, she guessed. But she really wasn't trying to throw herself between the SOLDIER and his childhood friend. Who cares if they had been sweethearts? Aerith respected them both more than to stir the pot.

Besides, something about Cloud bothers her enough to prefer the company of the awkward brawler. He showed glimpses of a tender nature, but his laser like focus on tasks often blighted those moments causing him to appear calculating and cold. 

There's also something about Tifa that intrigues her. It's impossible be that shy and be in the business of pseudo bar tending come terrorism. There's more to her than her compassion for her friends, strength and her quirky bashful nature. If she really wanted Cloud, there's no doubt her appearance alone could seduce him and her sweet temperament would keep him if she would just use them. But she doesn't.

In the midst of this haphazard expedition to beat Sephiroth and ShinRa, Aerith can't stop her own wiles from teasing the blonde with a chocobo haircut or the woman next to her; it's like they're cut from the same cloth. Aerith clicked her tongue, pondering how their arguments must pan out or if they sit in awkward silence glaring death at one another when they have a spat.

"I know," quipped said barmaid from her nebulous haze, "Let's see..."

Tifa moved from beneath the Cetra's legs, shuffling to sit next to her.

Again, her wit wouldn't heel and she couldn't help a playful shove against her friend's exposed shoulder. She couldn't trounce her lips from smiling when goose flesh rippled over Tifa's arms.

"You- you're not quite in a state for me to demonstrate in practice how to apply a lot of techniques," Tifa stammered slightly.

The thought of Tifa pressed against her, manipulating her limbs had crossed her mind before, albeit a  _completely_   _different_  set of circumstances which had altered how Aerith had viewed Tifa. She also would find her nervous stutter endearing too had her mouth not become uncomfortably dry and a cage of butterflies set free in her chest.

"So... do we need to revisit this another day?" she cocked her head to the side, peering beneath oynx lashes.

"…No. Just work with me," Tifa paused thoughtfully, before continuing, "The goal of learning pressure points is helpful in your case... knowing the best places to impair an opponent rather than flat-out killing them...knowing you probably would rather not do that-"

She twisted in place, running her hand over the skin at the back of her knee, "-for example, knocking someone in the knee joint can cause their legs to crumple, or hitting the wrist at the right angle can force their hand muscles to drop their weapon." Tifa inhaled sharply, pulling Aerith's hand into hers. She traced circles now at the base of Aerith's palm, where her wrist connected her forearm and hand. A rush of excitement emanated from the placement of Tifa's fingers, and trickled down her spine.

Aerith looked Tifa in the eye, feeling herself tense slightly and urged her to go on, "What else?" Part of her wondered where this confidence was coming from. Tifa never initiated physical contact outside of necessity.

Tifa's long fingers encircled her wrist, "If someone grabs your wrist, you can use your other arm to block any attempt to strike you...before chopping your hand into their elbow and lock the joints of their arm. It throws off their balance so you can take them to the ground."

"And what about wrist locks with... submission in mind?" Aerith lingered on Tifa's lips for a second, watching her react at her choice of words.

Her grip tightened around her, claret eyes cast downward looking at their hands, "They allow you a massive amount of leverage against your assailant."

Pulling and rotating Aerith's wrist, she gently rolled it's range of movement against what the ligaments in her arms permit. She felt them tug uncomfortably, muscles grimacing under pressure. She didn't pull away though...perhaps offering herself a little too readily to Tifa even by her own standards.

"By grabbing their wrist and forcing it into an unnatural position, it buys you a moment as they're distracted by the pain. You can either continue exerting pressure in order to damage their limbs as your endgame...or choose to capitalize on following through with another attack." Tifa paused, "I usually like to swing a kick into their jaws while grappling with their wrists. But an elbow to the solar plexus or groin sends a message too." She winked.

Aerith's mouth fell agape, caught slightly off guard. "You're a bad girl."

"Didn't claim I was an angel. No one ever called me one either." She pursed her lips victoriously.

Well, that was pleasantly unexpected yet welcome nonetheless. The jab didn't blow over Aerith's head, both Zack and Cloud's voices echoing in her mind. She grabbed at Tifa's wrist this time, unyielding when she jerked away. "Hello, Tifa Lockhart-" She said, darkly, "I knew you were hiding in there somewhere!" The love child between a cackle and a giggle bellowed from her lungs.

Tifa graced her with another weirdly shy smirk in her direction.

They're were sitting close; she could feel Tifa's warm breath on her face. Aerith still held her wrist in her hand, and she wasn't pulling it away. She can see specks of orange, and brown within her red eyes which flit downward for a second, Aerith could only assume Tifa was glancing at her lips. The moment felt impassioned, which felt wholly improper considering they'd met only days ago. She'd happily give etiquette and social norms a shove into the shadows right now.

Tifa broke Aerith's grip on her wrist. She heaved herself upward, reaching for her gauntlets and walked toward their tent. Before disappearing, she cast a glance back at Aerith. "When your foot heals, I'll teach you to grapple."

Hands playing with the choker around her neck, Aerith chuckled impishly; calling to the fighter, "I'll look forward to it!"

She would have sworn that Tifa's face offered a quietly salacious smile before she disappeared into the tent.

Confident Tifa wasn't going to return, Aerith pulled her staff from the pile of camping equipment. She closed her eyes, muttering the incantation for cure. Green tendrils of light wrapped around her ankle and the dull pain within her aching bones vanquished.

Aerith didn't intend on telling Tifa she healed herself. Tifa would no doubt bark annoyance at her if she found Aerith ignored her concern, but the woman probably won't bite. Besides, the shrill of excitement welling in her stomach makes her want another opportunity to feel Tifa against her, to "help her walk". And then there's the prospect of tumbling to the ground with her friend, feigning a grapple technique. She chastised herself for wildly pursuing her thoughts,  _Down Girl. Down._


	2. Chapter Two

Barret wasn't overly enthused by the idea of spending an extended period of time with Cloud without Tifa or Aerith to distract the Blond from clashing with him over their alpha-male syndrome spat, and the disagreement over travel arrangements delayed their departure from Kalm. In a last ditch attempt before leaving the inn reception, Barret stood in the way of the door. 

"It don't sit right wit' me Teef. You don' know what's out 'ere. An', she hurt herself. Spikey don't like the idea. Look at 'im." 

She glanced at Cloud, his were arms crossed and his attention was focused anywhere but on her, "There's no telling how much stronger Sephiroth is now, than in Nibelheim, Tifa."

"Yeh, that too. Teef, I'm pleadin'. I'll stick wit' you and Aerith can travel wit' Red an' Spikes."

"You really think I can't take care of her? Funny...who led the charge into ShinRa to save her ass, huh? We'll be FINE, thank you. We'll see you guys across the grasslands. PHS us if you get into trouble." Tifa smirked, tickled by the gunman's ruse. 

The door of the inn slammed shut as they left, striding through the center of town and toward the wilderness beyond. The town folk watched from the corner of their eyes, the silence they walked in would easily yield under the Buster sword's edge had they wanted to cut it; each member of their squad likely feeling the same grave sense of purpose that this wasn't some expedition born from the imaginations of innocent children while they played.  

The ex-SOLDIER paused, staring westward into the blackened backdrop of Midgar. His posture stiffened, rolling his phone in the palm of his gloved hand.  

When he finally looked at Tifa, she didn't see the vibrant mako hue within them; the glow that caused women to swoon had left. They harbored a cold steel blue and his face hardened as he spoke, "If you see anything, anyone suspicious, you call me." 

Barret glared at Cloud and grumbled, "Girl you 'jes keep yer eyes open." 

"I don't make habits of doing much other than sleeping with my eyes closed," Tifa said dryly, "Go! Shoo!" 

The women waved curtly as Cloud, Barret and Red XIII began trudging through the fields ahead. Tifa paused to check her own supplies before she and Aerith began following them. 

"Do you kiss with your eyes open?" Aerith asked after a while.  

Tifa noticed she'd been surprisingly quiet since Cloud relayed his rendition of his mission to Nibelhiem. Not that she blamed her, because Cloud's version of events didn't match up with her own memory; but why would Aerith know any different? As far as Tifa was aware, the Cetra had no connection to the rural mountain town. 

Tifa's pace slowed as she processed the question, slightly bewildered, "-What? ...Of course not!" 

"Just checking..." Aerith smiled mischievously from beneath the straw hat that she'd purchased before leaving Kalm.  When they'd met Aerith in Midgar, her skin boasted of her life beneath the plate. Flawless and pale, like that of a porcelain doll's. In the day or so that it had taken to reach Kalm, Tifa observed Aerith's delicate skin had already born faint freckles from being bathed in the abundant sunshine. She'd burn easily, even in the late afternoon sun they found themselves walking in. 

Tifa rolled her eyes, sighing, "Why don't you go ahead and ask about the orthopedic underwear while you're at it..." 

"At what?" Aerith rolled her eyes in return, playfully. 

"Don't play coy. I know you're teasing me..." 

"Only because I  _like_  you. If I wasn't comfortable around you, I wouldn't do it." The word 'like' rolled from Aerith's tongue and Tifa felt her face warm from her neck upward. 

"Is that also why you let me needlessly bind your foot?" Tifa cocked a brow, eager to see Aerith dig herself out of that. 

"Mhm." Aerith didn't dignify her question with an answer, and instead focused on the grass; her walk evolving into a skip to keep up with the brisk tempo that Tifa began setting. "I wonder if Cloud knows the proper name for orthopedic underwear." 

"See! You just don't stop, do you?" Tifa laughed lightly, "...And what do you mean anyway? How would you know what kind of undergarment he found...for all you know he could have picked up a knee brace from my drawers." 

"Oh please Tifa..." Aerith's eyes hesitated at Tifa's chest, who self-consciously raised her arms to fold them over her bosom in response to Aerith's probing gaze, "...any woman with your chest is going to have back problems." 

Tifa couldn't hold back a chuckle in spite of her self-consciousness, and snorted into her hand, "You really think Cloud would have stolen my sports bras? Poor sheltered boy." 

"Only sports bras?" Aerith's voice raised inquisitively, laughter bleeding into her voice, “That doesn't explain why you and Cloud blushed furiously when you asked if he looked around your bedroom.”  

Tifa’s face burned, and swore she’d be able to fry an egg. "Have you tried looking for pretty bras in my size? They don't exist. Not anywhere I've been anyway." 

Aerith grabbed Tifa's arm and linked her own through Tifa's. "Challenge accepted! We'll find something to do your girls some justice." 

“We _really_  don't have to…” Her heart rate hastened. She was acutely aware of Aerith's hips brushing lightly against her own, and her fingers tracing over her bare biceps.  

“Yes, yes we do. If you're certain it wasn't racy underwear in your drawers then we need to work on doing your figure some justice," Aerith paused, grinning brightly and curling her bangs around her index finger, "What  _do_  you have in your drawers that you don't want anyone to see?”  

"I-Uh... thatsnoneofyourbusiness." Tifa froze, desperately searching for anything in the grass to divert the path of the conversation. Aerith was just too much and so full on sometimes, and there were certain topics that she was definitely too shy to speak about even with the closest of friends, like Jessie; much less someone like Aerith who she was only starting to know. Yet Aerith has an incredible talent to work her way beyond Tifa's hardened exterior and coercing her into revealing more about herself than she might otherwise offer of her own accord. 

 Flustered, she unlinked her elbow from Aerith's, and focused on the path of downtrodden grass ahead. Cloud, Barret and Red XIII had set a blistering pace and were well out of sight now. 

“You brought up the orthopedic underwear topic  _Teef_. That communicates that you  _do_  want to talk about it.” Aerith winked, “I’ll drop it. For now.” 

 

* * *

 

The grass in the wilderness grew steadily thicker and longer, and the sun was racing toward the horizon. The PHS beeped from within Aerith's jacket pocket. Enthusiastic as ever, she answered the call. 

"Hi Cloud!" 

" _Hey. You girls get lost?_ " There was an unusual tone of amusement in Cloud's voice. 

"No! We can't be that far behind you." 

 _"I was wondering if your ankle was bothering you. I can come back to help you if you want."_  

Tifa scoffed, of course Cloud would think they needed help. 

"No need. We've got each-other's back. Don't worry,  _bodyguard_." Aerith giggled into the phone's microphone, her bangs falling around her face and shielding her expression. 

 _"Uh huh. We're at the_ _Chocobo_ _ranch, keep walking east-south-east. The owner said a guy in a black coat crossed the marshes. But we're_ _gonna_ _stay here for the night... Don't take too long."_  

"See ya later alligator." 

 _"...In a while crocodile."_  

She hung up the PHS and slotted it back in her pocket, looking up and swinging her arms; hands splaying as the grass blades feathered her forearms, "Come on Tifa, Cloud's waiting on us!" 

 _So are Barret and Red_ , Tifa thought. She felt a burst of resentment towards Cloud...and Aerith.  

 _Cloud had been so distant with her when he found his way into Seventh Heaven, weeks ago. In the AVALANCHE missions they'd been on together, the time in the bar they'd spent together..._ _Tifa_ _had been unable to get so much as a crack of a smile out of him. But_ _Aerith_ _? He falls into her church and suddenly he has developed a silhouette of a personality and an ability to flirt? Does he remember that he promised to be her hero too?_  

Aerith interrupted her internal monologue, "Your face. It's doing something weird." 

"...huh?" Tifa looked up, meeting Aerith's concerned emerald eyes. 

"You're not smiling anymore, silly! What's wrong?" 

"It's nothing..." 

"Liar liar...you're thinking about Cloud again." Aerith stopped in her tracks, willing Tifa to answer her.  

Tifa paused and bit her tongue, forbidding it from revealing the true extent of her thoughts, "...He's not the same as he used to be." 

Aerith furrowed her brow, watching Tifa wince into the setting Sun. She realized she was touching raw nerves again, as Tifa's body language indicated she was pulling down the iron curtain to shut her out. 

 Grabbing Tifa's hand, she laced her fingers through the rough fabric of Tifa's gloves and pulled the straw hat from her head; setting it on Tifa's crown. 

"We'll figure out what's going on in Spikey's head, okay? You and me." She smiled in earnest. Tifa relaxed her hand into Aeriths, quietly doting on the dimples set in her cheeks when she smiled so beautifully as she did. 

"I guess we will." Her hand lurched forward without her bidding, and though she hadn't a heart to stop, she did pause as Aerith watched keenly as Tifa combed fingers through her unkempt bangs. 

"Thank you." Aerith giggled lightly and squeezed their hands as they marched onward. 

They walked in silence, pulling and pushing against each-other's grip as the terrain became less sturdy and their footing on the dirt got poorer. She felt Aerith's thumb stroke over the leather garnishing her knuckles.  

Glancing across at the Cetra, she caught glimpses of ghostly white pin pricks of flesh marring her inner forearm, of her otherwise flawless skin. She winced, but curiosity got the better of Tifa this time. 

"Aerith, can I ask what he did to you?" She asked, quietly, pushing foliage out of their way. 

She really didn't need to ask whom Tifa was referring to. 

"Professor Hojo?" She tensed upon saying his name, lowering her head.  

This was the first time Tifa had observed any emotion with negative connotations written on her face. She reeled, hoping this time she wasn't the one asking sensitive questions, "I'm sorry, you don't have to say...I guess I just want to know if I can think less of ShinRa than I already do..." 

"No, don't apologize. I mean it's not fine. It's hard. It's upsetting because I know that whatever pain...whatever testing they did to me was only a fraction of what they did to my birth mother-" She pulled her hand from Tifa's, rubbing the scars, "Tifa...ShinRa is relentless. They wouldn't rest. My childhood... My mom... they bled her dry trying to find the Promised Land. Knowing Hojo was willing to try to cross breed me is a testament to the lengths they will go to, to exploit what they can for wealth and convenience. For power." 

Tifa shuddered, and as she anticipated, she felt her stomach slowly knot in anger. She held a deep loathing for ShinRa since Nibelheim, to hear Aerith confirm the rumoured atrocities only fueled the intensity of her rage against the ShinRa machine. 

"He bound me against cold surgical tables. They stripped me down from my clothes. His aides mocked me, ridiculed me. They cut, they stabbed. They took any number of blood samples... platelet and serum samples. Skin samples. Bone marrow samples... locks of my hair. They humiliated me like an animal kept in a zoo. I can still hear the autonomous beeping of their computers as the MRI scanners performed numerous scans of my brain. I see cold steel needles, sterile collection tubes and his nasty, lecherous smile when I close my eyes. And you know what he found?" 

Tifa nervously met her deep mossy green eyes and implored her to continue, balling her fists and feeling her veins burgeon beneath the skin in her hands. 

"Nothing. They put it down to me being half Cetra...half human. His excuse is that I'm not pure." Aerith scowled, her features hardening, "Now, imagine what they would have done to my mom if they had current technology back when they held her captive? Imagine what more they would do to me if I was  _pure_." The words dropped like acid from her tongue. 

Tifa clenched her teeth, she fought to keep Zangan's teachings in her mind's eye. Her anger rebelled, she felt jet fuel and adrenaline coarse through her arteries as Aerith spoke and tears sprung free from the levees holding them back.  

Her skin stung as the first drop slid down her cheek, to be caught by Aerith's unwavering thumb.  

The women stopped walking once more. Tifa willed her voice to sound more stern, but failed, " _Bastards..._ Aerith I'm so sorry... _"_ Another tear left her eye. 

Aerith sighed, seemingly inhaling in enough oxygen for them both and pleaded softly, pulling the barmaid into a tight embrace. "Hey now. Tifa, if you're in there - come back!"   

Tifa's breath hitched at the contact. Aerith nestled her head into Tifa's neck, "Hey," She whispered, "Don't cry. It's over,  _Tifa_.  _You_ rescued me. I'm here, and alive. I'm fine. And before Cloud lets you believe it was his plan – it was my idea to break you out of Corneo's mansion. So, we're even, okay?" 

"Okay." Tifa whispered back, reflecting on her feelings; reflecting on their conversation.  

She felt uneasy at the slew of confusion in her mind. Why does she feel so protective over Aerith? Why, if she so desperately wants Cloud to be  _her_  hero, why does she feel like Cloud wouldn't guard Aerith well enough? Why does she like being held like this?  

She feels unnerved at how quickly she becomes bitter while she witnesses Aerith and Cloud interact. She feels dizzied by her willingness to open up her heart to this flower girl in pink, and alarmed when she questions herself; is she jealous of Aerith…or Cloud? 

Aerith pulled away, stroking Tifa's cheek as she motioned to hold Tifa's hand, “Come on. I don't think Barret will be happy that I've kept you to myself for so long.” 

Tifa chuckled nervously, feeling herself burn under Aerith's touch, “…right. I'm starving.” 

“I wouldn't mind a hot bath or a comfy bed.”  Aerith sighed wistfully. 

“I second that.” 

"And you owe me another lesson in your fancy martial arts, Sensei." Aerith giggled, stumbling as the barmaid lightly shoved her to the side. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick note just to throw out there that I am a real haphazard writer. I have no time frame for completion or any solid plan for upcoming chapters due to having to adult on a daily basis.  
> I also have no beta reader so all mistakes are my own.
> 
> I love hearing feedback, however flattering or critical so please consider hitting that kudos button or dropping a comment, I'll love you for it.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly a fill chapter because I've been so busy to actually write a believable lesson on martial arts from Tifa and I feel really guilty for not updating so I hope this isn't terrible and that you'll forgive me if I have to make a million edits.

 

* * *

 

Cloud and Tifa were sat on the fence of the chocobo pen when Aerith surfaced the next morning. 

She had been slow to fall asleep, in spite of physical exhaustion. Her ears and mind were overwhelmed by the new sights and sounds of life outside of the slums, and experiencing weather was a refreshing phenomenon too. Thunderclouds had blown up over the grasslands over night, thunderous roars of lightning striking the ground from the skies above had startled her out of bed; disgruntled, Aerith heaved herself off the floor with a huff and a pout, looking up to see Tifa smiling mirthfully at her. They'd spent a degree of time chatting after that, and Aerith felt a sliver of remorse that she hadn't been able to experience sleep overs as part of growing up.

 Aerith strolled toward them, though she stopped short of the pair to nuzzle her hands into the feathers of the bird following her around the pen. She didn't want to intrude on the childhood friends.  The yellow chocobo bowed, allowing her to continue gently kneading it's neck. As she befriended the creature, she overheard her compatriots conversing in an accent she hadn't heard either of them use before. Frankly, she felt herself straining to understand their words and wonders just how much she doesn't know about the rest of the planets inhabitants and the differences in culture that exist.

"Billy suggested we practice luring these chocobos in here before trying to lure our own and crossing the Marshes. He said there's a giant snake lurking in there," Cloud said, his eyes roving the distance.  

Aerith watched Tifa squint slighty. She recognized the expression on her face from the night Tifa bandaged her ankle before she disappeared into their tent; and Aerith felt something akin to jealousy. "I would have thought you and your giant sword would have been able to make mince meat out of it..." 

"-I thought you would have known it's not all about your weapon but it's what you do with it." Cloud countered, turning his head and his cerulean gaze piercing into Tifa's own. The corner of his mouth sloped into a smirk, and Tifa shoved him hard into his shoulder guard; almost knocking him from his perch.  

"Okay SOLDIER boy. Hint taken, I'll show you city slickers how it's done." Tifa jumped from the fence, smiling brightly at Aerith which worked wonders on banishing the sensation of envy to the back corner of the flower girl's mind. 

"I'm NOT a city slicker Tifa! You know that!" Cloud yelled after her, indignation deep in his voice. 

   
Tifa waved her hand dismissively behind her. She hesitated before advancing toward Aerith and the chocobo, respecting the animal's boundaries and waiting for permission to approach both them. The bird warked and cooed calmly, fluffing his feathers outward signifying he was comfortable with Tifa's presence. She felt inexplicably comfortable too. 

"You seem like you know what you're doing." Tifa said, reaching forward and offering a handful of greens. 

Aerith smiled at the barmaid's conscientious gesture, watching the chocobo take her peace offering, "Not really. I've never seen a chocobo before..." 

She looked up at Tifa in time to see her brow furrow, "Well, you're a natural then," Tifa added.  

"Maybe. I'm not sure I feel up to riding one just yet," she tilted her head, and sighed. She wasn't nervous. That was a white lie, and she was attempting to mask her amusement with apprehension. 

"You'll be fine..." Tifa spoke with quiet confidence, and judging by the look in her eyes, she was definitely not buying the act that Aerith was trying to allude to. 

Biting at her lip, Aerith pulled at the reigns of the harness and leaned in toward Tifa. She was somewhat shocked to hear her voice adopt a tone as silky and low as it sounded, without total permission from her brain, "I will be if you ride with me."  

The barmaid shook her head, and crossed her arms, "Uhm... no. You said you wanted us to stop wrapping you in cotton wool."  

"Oh you're no fun!" She laughed, forgetting her façade and pushing Tifa square in the chest. The chocobo startled at Aerith's excitable outburst and took his leave.  

"Pssh! You don't know that." Tifa met Aerith's gaze, her mouth hanging ajar and her tongue grazing her teeth as the moment lingered in pregnant silence before Aerith spoke again. 

"You have a really cute accent hidden beneath that gaudy midgar slur thing you have going on." 

Tifa cocked an eyebrow, smirking, "I-...Only mine though?" Her voice hushed like she didn’t want anyone else to hear. 

"Oh I couldn't really hear Cloud. He needs to stop mumbling..." Aerith shot back, teasing her choker, "You should use your hometown accent more." 

Tifa pursed her lips and looked away, her eyes skirting away from Aerith. When she spoke again, her Nibelheim accent wrapped around her words, "Is that all you want, Aerith? To talk?" 

Aerith's brain and tongue were temporarily stuck in a bind, and she felt Tifa's words stur something deep within her. She knows the feelings that she has for Tifa broach on more than admiration of a friend in a platonic friendship. She hasn't asked Tifa in any depth of her romantic history, Tifa isn't likely to disclose that information any time soon. But she has an inkling, or perhaps a yearning, that Tifa isn't naive and is tentatively flirting back with her. She's yet to bear witness to Tifa interacting with any other women of their age to be sure, but she doesn't spare as much time and generosity to the others as Tifa does to her. Aside from Cloud. Yet friendships are not a wealth she was graced with; she definitely wants to sit on her desires and let Tifa pave the course of their relationship. Her friendship means so much more.

She laughed breathlessly as Tifa quirked an eyebrow at her, pointing her jaw victoriously into the air and exposing her exquisitely long neck that she wouldn't deny wanting to kiss. She can't help it. Tifa is her friend, she repeats to herself, but she also appreciates beauty when she sees it.

Not wanting to strain the moment much more, she turned her head to propel her voice across the gate toward Cloud, Red and Barret. "Hey Cloud, Tifa wants to say filthy things to you in your cutesy accent!" 

"Oh my GOD. Aerith!" Tifa clenched her teeth and balled her fists. Aerith felt like she should feel scared, but deep down she knows Tifa probably wouldn't hurt her, though her glare is menacing and she was closing the gap between them  _fast_. Before she had a hope of preparing herself, she felt Tifa's hands grip on her waist and is hoisted into the air, onto the brawler's shoulders.  

Had she not mildly feared what Tifa had in mind for her, the physical contact probably would have sent her reeling. Sure, she had shamelessly teased many people, however none had reacted in kind; and those who had gone before did not possess the ability to cause grievous bodily harm using their hands alone. It was sexy, in all honesty. 

"What are you doing? Put me down woman!" Aerith feigned horror, punching into Tifa's back. The real challenge she felt was to abstain from allowing her fists to do anything but punch; as Tifa walked under Aerith's weight, her white shirt hinted at the expanse of smooth skin sheathing the rippling muscles under there and Shiva, she wanted to touch. 

Barret's laughter bellowed across the gated expanse of grass as Tifa marched into the pen and set her sights on the yellow chocobo. Aerith felt Tifa's hand roaming at her flank, shivers darting down her spine as she traversed her clothed breast, grasping for the greens tucked into her pocket there. Her skin felt branded from the contact. 

Tifa cooed, and the yellow chocobo trotted toward her. She felt Tifa's hands at her hips once more and within the blink of an eye, she's sat on the chocobo. Tifa clicks her tongue at the bird and coos, prompting the bird to begin trotting and Aerith found herself hanging on for life and limb. Turning back, Aerith shook her fist at her friend. 

"Tifa I am SO going to get you back for this you fiend!" Damn it, she wished she could pull off a more convincing angry response. 

"Try me!" Tifa yelled back, waving with a wink. 

She huffed, and grasped at the reigns. She whispered to the chocobo to slow, to yield. She may as well take the practice anyhow while she tries to regain composure and process what in gaia's name had just happened. She's doomed, if this is how Tifa is going to choose to steer them.

"See Aerith, you're a natural!" She turned in time to see Tifa jogging backward, the tail of her obsidian hair sashaying around the hem of the black skirt; Aerith noted she really needed a drink. 

 

* * *

 

 When she made it back to the gate, the jovial attitudes had vanished and Tifa, Barret and Cloud were seemingly squabbling once more. Barret looked annoyed, Cloud defensive and Tifa unamused. 

"All I'm saying, is that it's not reaching to suggest that the Turks haven't already been here! We don't know this guy and he might have been threatened by ShinRa. How do we trust these people, Barret? How can we be sure he's not just propagating bullshit in order to lead us into a trap?" Tifa's words were caked in an absense of trust, like they've been lured by carrots before. She feels saddened by the thought of anyone doing wrong by the fighter.

Cloud's features hardened, turning his face away, "And you're an expert lie detector?" He may as well have spat the words. 

Aerith felt a stab of anger as Cloud questioned Tifa's instincts, "No, she ran a BAR. She looked into the eyes of lies and deceit DAILY so forgive her if she seems dubious about the intentions of others," Aerith met Cloud's dark gaze, she stepped toward him, unwavering, and continued, "We might do well to listen to her intuition." 

"If you're scared you don't have to come with us." He returned, coolly. 

"'Ey, don't push Teef away Spikey. You a foo' if you don't think we need 'er. She has bigger guns than you so don't think she's the expendable one. Hell even Buttercup 'ere can use materia better than yo' Spikey ass and we known her fo' all of five minutes." Barret pointed his index finger at Cloud accusingly. 

Cloud pushed past Aerith and stood square with the larger man, he spoke directly to Tifa in spite of standing off against Barret, "So what does it matter if Bill is mistaking what he saw? There's nothing back in Midgar for any of us and this is as good as any leads we are going to find unless you want to wander aimlessly while you fact check every person we speak to." 

She felt her composure crack. This wasn't quite the Cloud that fell through her church roof and his abrupt personality shifts have her wondering if Cloud ought to be on medication for a bipolar disorder. "Cloud Strife! Do we need to school you in common decency?" 

"I dunno. Maybe I could learn something from you. You seem chipper for having just been thrown onto the back of a bird by She-Hulk." Cloud scoffed, and walked away. 

Aerith turned to Tifa, who in place looked moderately dumbfounded at the exchange. 

"I'm sorry...I have no idea what is up with him...he was never like this before he left Nibelheim..." Tifa's voice trailed into silence, as she massaged her temples.

"He reminds me of someone but I'd only be speculating...there'll be a time to talk about that. And you're going to let his prepubescent outburst go - you love Cloud." 

"Oh sure. I love him like I love root canals." Tifa snorted behind the back of her hand before grabbing Aerith's shoulders and pulling her in for a hug, "Thanks for siding with me," she whispered into the shell of Aerith's ear. She wants to relax into the embrace, and feel the length of Tifa's body against her for longer, but she pulls away.

 


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I suck at updating in a timely manner!
> 
> Also, I know Germany doesn't exist in Gaia but I don't know any other names for a German suplex so forgive me plz.

 

* * *

She finds herself hard pressed to be truthful to herself when she dissects and scrutinizes the shift in her behaviour, as she pulls on her boots and buckler the next day, ready to cross the marshlands.

She wants to say it's a shock to her system; the metamorphosis from closed book status to being willing to engage mischievous social interactions. Outgoing enough to pull others into embraces – let alone lifting Aerith onto the back of a chocobo without asking permission– is not something she's accustomed to doing. Tifa knows Aerith would have said something had it actually bothered her, but Ifrit only knows what influence the woman clad in pink will ultimately hold over her. She shakes her head lightly at her self-analysis. Aerith was right, the other night. She needs to live a little, and she hasn't too many excuses remaining in her arsenal left to bat for her.

They're out of Midgar and are known to at least this continent as heinous terrorists. The concept of remaining a complete level-headed, stick-up-the-ass (as Aerith had worded it) was nullinvoid at this point. Seventh Heaven is a memory she'll take hits from, just as Nibelheim is to her now. She can't even utilize Marlene as reasoning to remain completely responsible; the road ahead is just too dangerous for a child. Oh Marlene, Tifa misses her. She misses the purity and innocence of youth - Marlene is but a fraction of what she wants to fight for.

Dragging dulled nails across her aching legs, she's not optimistic about their chances of living through this quest. But she isn't keen to voice that out loud; not when keeping up morale is a burden laying on the shoulders of the two females of the troupe. They're likely to lose their lives. Aerith's voice echoes in her mind, _"You need to love a little more. Laugh a little more. You're so much prettier when that frown isn't plastered across your face,"_  she'd said with a bold wink.

Tifa succumbs to a grin as her temporal lobe wanders the night previous. As night fell across the plains, storms mushroomed overhead and roared; thunderous claps of lightning chased Aerith out of her bed for her to land with an uncharacteristic lack of grace on the wooden floor. Up until then, Tifa had assumed that those claiming to have been scared out of bed were hamming it up – striving for comedic affect when retelling a tale. But Aerith's reactions were of course, authentic. And about as endearing as they come; though she'd sooner dig her own grave than let Aerith know she thinks that at this point.

Impulsively, they'd ignored their bodies' craving for sleep and spoke about anything and everything into the unspeakable hours; giggling like schoolgirls at a sleepover in between bouts of honest to goodness story telling of their lives up to this point.

* * *

_"_ _I'm NEVER going to fall asleep like this!"_ _Aerith_   _huffed, blowing her bangs away from her cheeks as lightning illuminated the cozy_   _shack of the farm._

_"You're so spoiled. Back home when we were kids we pitched tents on Mt._ _Nibel_   _. The_ _wind up_   _there makes_ _ShinRa_   _trains sound like purring kittens and the creatures around the reactor make the_ _Zolom_   _look like a corn snake." She propped herself up in the palm of her hand, watching as_ _Aerith_   _clambered back into bed._

_Her green eyes_ _regarded_ _her closely,_ _Aerith's_   _mind no doubt swimming with questions, "How did you make it to_ _Midgar_   _, anyway? That's an awful distance."_

_"The fire. It killed my father and Sensei_ _Zangan_   _took me to_ _Midgar_   _... I guess the medical help I needed wasn't going to be found elsewhere. I haven't seen Sensei since._   _"_

_"_   _So_   _Cloud's memories about you were true,_ _You_   _were hurt?!"_

_"Oh yeah..."_ _Tifa_   _shook her head and laughed, "Yours truly went after_ _Sephiroth_   _and I thought it was a fucking brilliant idea to use_ _masamune_   _. I have the scars to prove it...defiant little shit that I was._   _"_

_Aerith_   _scoffed, "Watch your language! You say that like you're fifty. What are you,_ _twenty five_ _?"_

_"Sorry._ _Twenty_ _,_   _"_   _She grumbled in return, shifting to rest on her stomach._

_"Exactly! Where is your scar? Can I see?"_

_She'd paused at this point, looking down and overwhelmed by a rush of_ _self consciousness_   _over the scar. She looked up again and met_ _Aerith's_   _intense_   _gaze. She pulled down the neck of her night shirt, barely enough to reveal much more than an inch of the dulled red skin adorning the top of her left breast, "The rest is... well. It's big and you don't need to see all that. I learnt the hard way about not wielding weaponry that you're not trained to use. I almost died._   _"_

_"You shouldn't be so afraid of showing it... you shouldn't be ashamed of it. It's part of what makes you_ _You_   _."_   _Aerith_   _was looking fixedly at her, cheek in her palm._

_"He almost killed me..."_

_"I'm really glad he didn't,"_ _Aerith_   _said hastily,_   _bit_ _ing_   _her lip, "So you healed up –then what?"_

_"Well...I was in_ _Midgar_   _. I wanted to come here just like all the village boys did. But they came here to join_ _ShinRa_   _..._   _thats_   _why Cloud came here. Employment options for women aren't nearly as broad as the spectrum for men though...unless you're educated. If_ _not_   _then your options are-"_

_"-limited to making money on your back. I know."_ _Aerith's_   _eyes wandered to the ceiling, not missing a beat and knowing full well the_ _grim reality_   _of making a living within the slums_   _without years of formal education archived in memory_ _._

_"...Right. I found work as a barmaid in Seventh Heaven. The owner didn't stick around, got into some trouble with_ _ShinRa_   _and I took over."_   _Tifa_   _volleyed, watching_ _Aerith_   _fumble like she was about to say something, but she didn't._

_A moment passed in what_ _Tifa_   _would only describe as a comfortable silence before_ _Aerith_   _spoke up again._

_"Make me a drink sometime."_

_Tifa_   _pursed her lips. Smiling this much made her jaws_ _ache, but this...this bonding time was too nice not to enjoy._ _"I'll_   _create a mixed one in your name."_

_Aerith_   _beamed,_ _"It had better pack a punch!"_

_She laughed heartily at that, "Yeah...I know a few mixers that would knock you off your feet there, darlin'."_

_"I bet you do that to a lot of people!"_ _Aerith_   _fired back, holding her gaze firm._

_"-_   _What_   _d'you_   _mean?"_   _Tifa_   _turned onto her back._

_"Knocking people off their feet, dummy." She responded flatly._

_"Isn't it obvious?" She pondered, thinking back to Seventh Heaven and the number of instances that she'd given_ _drinks_   _to those a shade_ _shy_   _of alcohol poisoning – and there were those who needed help finding the door as belligerent drunks whose hands wandered too far. Her fists told tales of right hooks landing in jawlines more times than she'd be proud to admit; much to a rapturous applause from the other patrons._

_"I honestly wish you'd dress in a way that says you know you're a catch!"_ _Aerith's_   _grin was visible in the darkness, a_   _s_   _she lay on the edge of her bed_   _._

_She froze, "_   _Wha_   _-! That's not what we were talking about!"_

_"-that's not what YOU were talking about, you mean." She looked like the_ _C_ _heshire_   _cat at this point, and_ _Tifa_   _felt herself cornered and falling into the_ _Aerith_   _sized black hole in the room._

_"Well I'm talking about alcohol and literally knocking someone out!"_ _Tifa_   _spluttered, inhaling and opting to roll with the gentle teasing. She could try to play this game. "I'm flattered._   _"_

_"Why the boring white tank and mini combo? You'd start a riot if you dressed like your figure commands..."_

_"Money or lack thereof. I made do with what Jessie gave me when I joined AVALANCHE._   _"_

_"Understood. You'd make scrubs look great._   _"_

_"I'm sure I d_ _o_   _..." In impulse, she threw her arms over her head; mocking a_ _wild_ _l_ _y_   _dramatized pos_ _e_   _, lying_ _wanton_ _._

_Aerith's signature cackle filled the shack, "Oh now I definitely need to get you drunk. I need to know what you're like when you're not on your best behaviour. For Science."_

"I recommend Devil Springs Vodka, or S _unset Rum."_

_Tifa_   _watched_ _Aerith_   _pull her lip under the grip of her teeth again, but she said nothing more._

_Lightning struck once more, together they watched through the drawn open curtains as_ _a brilliant shock of white in the graphite sky_   _forked_   _silently to the unsuspecting ground - the thunderous boom_   _calling its warning too late._ _Aerith_   _tensed again, combing her fingers through her hair._

_"If it saves me from having to lug you through the mines tomorrow, come sleep in my bed."_ _Tifa_   _had asked, though surprising herself once more for stepping out of her comfort zone. She'd only made habits of sleeping next to Marlene. She ha_ _d kicked Johnny out every time._

_Aerith's_   _head snapped up, her expression vaguely unreadable until her trademark smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "If you don't mind?"_

_" 'Wouldn't have asked otherwise,_ _Aerith_ _." She offered a small smile in return, as_ _Aerith_   _stood to_ _gentl_ _y_   _lower herself next to her._ _Tifa_   _pulled the blankets back over them._

_"Goodnight_ _Teef_   _."_

_" 'Night_ _Aerith_   _."_

_Breathe, god damn it,_ _Tifa_   _._

She's not going to fool herself. She knows exactly why she feels like she does.

She's got a damned girl crush on Aerith Gainsborough. Her friend.

* * *

Tifa passed through the kitchen and paused for third breakfast as she walked by the toast and the last uneaten boiled egg, strolling outside toward the stack of bags and equipment ready for departure.

Aerith set her staff down over the pile of rucksacks, brows knitting together, "Are you eating again? Tifa, you're going to eat Bill out of house and home! It's a good thing we're leaving!"

Tifa chuckled, giving Aerith her most charming hands-in-the-cookie-jar grin that she could muster with a mouth full of egg yolk and toast. She set her plate down on a tree stump. "I'm hungry n' these things won't sustain themselves-" Hold her arms in the air, she flexed her biceps. Her heart pounded as her flesh warmed beneath her tank as Aerith smirked while looking at her, "It's unfair that you're pickin' on me though. Why don't you go harass Cloud or something..."

"It isn't Cloud who is eating a third egg, you're going to run me ragged trying to find enough food for you while we're out in the middle of Minerva's forsaken NOWHERE!" Aerith giggled, circling around Tifa; tugging her hair.

Her ears picked up an unexplained rustling. Tifa hushed Aerith, ears straining and hearing the slightest of movement coming from the pile of bags behind her. There shouldn't have been anything moving. No wildlife had approached the farm while they'd been there. It had been eerily quiet and devoid of even rats. Setting down her plate, Tifa attempted to maintain conversation, "-Cloud has an unfair advantage." She nodded her head at the pile of bags.

Without notice, she propelled herself from the stump and over the stack. Landing behind the small intruder, Tifa wrapped her arms around the girl's midsection, grasping onto her own forearms. Squatting down, she arched her back as she heaved her locked arms and lifted the girl forcefully overhead; pushing off of the ground from the balls of her feet as they fell backwards. The intruder was much lighter than she'd anticipated.

The thud from the girl's shoulders hitting the ground first accompanied Aerith's sharp gasps as the girl yelled in pain. Tifa pulled the girl up from behind, locking her elbow around her neck.

"Who the hell are you?!" Tifa yelled, keeping the tension in her arms tight as the girl squirmed, Aerith hurried over, prying open the girl's palms which revealed what had to be 300 gil.

"I am Yuffie! The White Rose of Wutai-"

"-nd I'm the Crown Jewel of Nibelheim. What d'ya think you're doing, helping yourself to our money?" Tifa snarled.

"I answer to no-one! Let me go!" Yuffie strained against her, but she didn't appear to possess enough strength to break free.

Aerith crouched in front of them, "Stealing isn't nice Yuffie."

From this angle, Tifa's attention faltered. Aerith was leaning over slightly and her eyes wandered for a millisecond; yet a millisecond was all Yuffie needed to capitalize on the moment and slip free – faster than Tifa could heave herself upward and she was gone.

"Damn it." Tifa sighed.

"Well, she didn't get away with our money at least." Aerith replied, slotting the money into one of her breast pockets.

"I guess. Still, we should probably let the others know that we're being targeted by pocket pickers." Tifa groaned.

"Mhm. What was that technique you just used?"

"German suplex. And no, you can't do that. You haven't enough strength in your back or core to be able to execute that move without doing more injury to yourself than the other." Tifa grinned, dusting herself off.

Aerith jabbed her index finger into Tifa's bicep. "You don't know that!"

Tifa raised her brow, challenging Aerith to prove her wrong, "I'm hurt, if you're performing deadlifts at night - I'd have liked an invite."

Aerith laughed, eyes to the sky.

Barret rounded the side of the barn, sliding his glasses over his eyes. "Yo Teef, Buttercup! Me 'n' Spikes are gon' try catch us a chocobo. Keep watch."

"You got it, Barret." Tifa smiled, saluting the AVALANCHE leader as he walked away. "They've done a 360, haven't they?"

Aerith tapped her lips, "Nah. They're saving face. It's another competition. So, Master. Teach me something new."

"I was serious about you and your strength. You need to strengthen yourself and eat more protein if you expect do anything like me," Tifa replied, resolutely. She sat down again on her stump, though Aerith's slender hand beat her to what was left of the egg and she ate it herself. "I've half a mind to throat punch your for that."

"Snooze you lose," Aerith threw her head back and cackled, crinkling her nose. "That's a pressure point, isn't it?"

"Yup, " Tifa said in between the remaining bites of toast, "I could use my forearm or the back of my hand and slam it into your brachial plexus right now, and avenge my food. You'd become disoriented at least, if not unconscious if I hit you hard enough."

"-You wouldn't though." Aerith deadpanned.

"...Right, you're kinda useful to have around-" Tifa replied with a wry smile, finding herself swimming in the sea of Aerith's rich green eyes for a moment.

"I'm not injured anymore. Put your money where your mouth is and demonstrate something with me." Aerith teased, leaning closer. Tifa felt herself redden once more.

"Ok...stand up. I'm going to face away from you, and you're going to lunge at my shoulders. I promise I won't hurt you, but pay attention."

Aerith disregarded her jacket as Tifa pivoted away from her. "Ready?" Aerith asked softly.

"-not waiting on a green flag here," Tifa snorted.

Aerith threw her right fist toward her left shoulder. As quickly as the punch came at her, Tifa locked Aerith's arm between her upper arm and torso; grabbing her inner elbow with her own right hand and pinched, applying enough pressure to induce tingling within Aerith's joint. With her left hand, she grasped Aerith's thumb.

"I could force your thumb outward too, and that combined with more pressure to your elbow would cause more excruciating pain. You're welcome." She let Aerith's arm out of her grip, and grabbed her wrist.

Honestly, her prerogative was to see if she remembered how to get out of a wrist lock. But when Aerith raised her arm, Tifa opened her hand to hold Aerith's soft one; utterly confused. Aerith pirouetted beneath the arch of their joined hands, her dress floating behind her in the wake of the movement. Tifa wants to accuse her of not taking training seriously, but she can't. Not when Aerith quite literally has her wrapped around her little finger, and she's left breathless from Aerith's beauty.

"I...I don't think you could dance your way out of trouble like that-" She stuttered, shaking her hair from her face.

"I trust you'll be there for me when I try." Aerith smiled, gingerly letting go of her hand.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to a rare burst of productivity, I squashed my blasted mental blockade. Don't raise your hopes up too high that this will become the new normal though XD

* * *

 

 

Ahead, as they drew closer, they could see a clearing. A glade of sorts. The soil submersed in water seemed less saturated with every stride they took and the messy entanglement of damp moss and reeds slowly retreated. In their place stood trees as old as the mountains they stood before, roots penetrating deep into the firm ground. 

Cloud jumped from behind her, dismounting their chocobo. She winced as his boots met the water, sending a spray of murky sludge in her direction. Taking a deep breath and aiming for the ground which didn't look too slippery, she climbed down from the bird and wiped the dirt from her arms. Cloud's impassivity was superseded by panic given away in his voice, as he strode toward the inanimate carcass of the Zolom – left for dead and impaled with clinical precision on the jagged entrails of a petrified tree. Aerith spun on her heel; searching for Tifa, Barret and Red. They jogged to catch up to the former SOLDIER. 

"What the... Did Sephiroth do this?" His voice barely registering in her ears. 

Barret walked closer to the dead snake, "This Sephiroth guy's pretty strong, I'd say. I ain't never seen a SOLDIER take down a beastie this big." 

"Our enemy is someone that could do this...?!" Dread wrapped itself around her chest, looking between Cloud and Tifa frantically.  

"Amazing..." Tifa whispered, though her face was veiled in both awe and revulsion. 

Red squinted, "We should probably proceed with respect to the power that the person who did this, yields." 

"Come on... I see the opening of the mines. We're wasting time by gawping," Cloud grimaced. 

The only hint of the abandoned mine entrance as was a slight rise in the ground, a hillock; one that was long like an almighty worm had burrowed under the tussocked grass and weathered rock. She felt that they were horrendously ill equipped. Aerith thought back to Kalm and felt a wash of relief that she'd decided against wasting what little gil she had on visiting the psychic reader there. Still, the whispers she has been hearing are starting to sound louder now. Aerith supposes this is the planet's way of letting her know that they're heading in the right direction. She doesn't let the others know about that, though. She doesn't want to give her new friends...and Tifa, any reason to alienate her like many of her peers from her adolescence did. 

 Rain began falling from the heavens, and with cold droplets drizzling down their necks, the wind tugged brush revealed the smallest climbs of weathered stone arch at the mouth.  

Crouching like beaten old men and women, they steadily worked their way down the entrance. Once inside, the daylight died like it had been swallowed and the abandoned tunnel echoed their footfall deep within. 

"Well, hope ya'll are wearing sensible footwear." Barret chortled, striding past Cloud to take the lead next to Tifa. He grasped into the deep pockets of his cargo pants and pulled out a lantern flash light, "Bet this takes you back to Mt Nibel, Teef." 

"A little too much..." Cloud glowered, casting a rare glimpse of concern toward Tifa who herself was shifting uncomfortably, smiling curtly toward the Gun man. 

 Aerith felt for her, predictably biting her tongue. Knowing the direction they are heading in and the perpetrator they're chasing after... seeing the slaughtered Zolom; Nibelheim is dominating her mind and the last thing Tifa would want to do is preoccupy her thoughts any more with memories of a not so distant past which cause her to toss and turn at night. Aerith is flattered that Tifa confided as much as she had with her on that topic. They've only known and been travelling together for a couple of weeks now, but Aerith knows enough from hearing her whimper in her nightmares that the hard-headed brawler is more troubled than she'd like everyone to believe. So, while she appreciates the chivalrous gesture that Tifa invited her to sleep in her bed; she highly suspects that Tifa did so because she needed the comfort of another soul to ward off her own demons too. 

Barret huffed as they scaled the uneven rock as the tunnel inclined upward. "You two, you treck the mountain together or did you run an' leave Teef up there like a lil' bitch?" 

"Barret..." Tifa responded brusquely.  

"I was never invited." Cloud replied quickly, and Aerith felt a stab of sympathy for Cloud, his sharp features contorting to conceal a very obvious heartache. 

"Doesn't surprise me." Barret sneered. 

"BARRET." Tifa warned, anger gushing like a torrent into her voice as if it were on an intravenous drip. He was treading on dangerous territory. 

"It's okay, Tifa." Cloud muttered, though Tifa turned back and marched toward the blond.  

"No. It wasn't okay, isn't okay and never will be. I...I tried to include you in our adventures but Johnny-" Tifa's eyes were pleading, her hand twitching as if she were stopping herself from reaching out to him. 

"-Always had the last say. Heard it before." Cloud shrugged her away, grabbing Aerith's hand and helping her move up the next platform of rocks.  

Aerith felt perplexed witnessing the charged exchange, these rivets between Tifa and Cloud were deeper issues than she initially thought and just who exactly was Johnny? The same Johnny they met outside the Honey Bee Inn? She clutched at Cloud's hand as she heaved up to step on the next boulder. 

"Now Johnny's a mans' man. What's he up to?" Barret mused aloud.  

"Zip it, Barret." Tifa scolded. 

Cloud turned his head to look back at him, "He's too busy at the Honey Bee Inn to be of any good to you." 

She felt her footing slip and try as she might, her grasp on Cloud's palm had loosened, thanks to the tension between them. She stumbled backward – bracing for a hard landing on the unforgiving cold rock beneath her. Instead, Aerith heard the hurried clumsy footfall from behind and fell into warmth – soft and sturdy. She turned her neck to see Tifa, who squeezed her; smiling as she pushed Aerith up the face of the rock.  

"I thought we said I'd not have to carry you, Aerith..." She chuckled quietly, shaking her bangs from her burgundy eyes and blushing as she noticed both Cloud and Barret's sharp scrutiny on her. 

"We're going to need to trim your hair soon," Aerith grabbed a bobby pin from her pocket as Tifa launched herself upward to join them on the next platform. Aerith stood close to her, and swept the brawler's obsidian bangs back, gripping it in place. "And, sorry - not sorry."  

The air between them felt strained as conversation dropped flat over the course of the next hour. The flashlight flickered, casting a foreboding greenish hue throughout the tunnel. Shivers billowing down her spine, she dragged her hand across the wall - picking up dust and grime. Glancing at the mangled track beneath their feet, a heinous laugh echoed throughout the vast expanse of the mine; rebounding off the crumpling walls. Cloud grasped for the Buster Sword, Barret releasing the safety from his gun-arm.  

Red padded forth, peering around the corner and froze, "...I hoped I'd never see you again..." 

"Just a second!" The bald man yelled. 

Aerith stepped forward, squinting, "By any chance are you-" 

"Who are you?!" Barret and Tifa asked in unison, holding their guard. 

"I'm Rude."  

Cloud rounded the corner, swinging the preposterously large sword in hand, "He's a Turk." 

"We don't have time for small talk, Rude...Elena." A black-haired man appeared between the bald man and the blonde woman, "Aerith. Long time no see..." 

Aerith gasped. Tseng. "Tseng...what are you doing here?"  

"It's our job to find out where Sephiroth is headed! We think he's en route to Junon!" Elena yapped. 

"Enough, Elena." Tseng contemplated her for a second before continuing, "...Looks like you escaped ShinRa for a while, now that we're busy chasing Sephiroth." 

She felt sour from the indignation quelling within her and the implication that Tseng was inferring, "You dare to suggest I should be grateful to that murderer?" 

"That monster. Well, I won't be seeing much of you so...take care." Tseng replied coldly. 

"You have a funny way of wording that," Aerith answered, clutching her staff defensively. She knew better than to trust the words of a Turk. 

"Stay out of our way." He muttered, turning to Cloud, "Reno sends his regards." 

Rude, Tseng and Elena disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel ahead.  

"Well. They seem  _nice_..." Tifa broke the silence, as Barret fumbled for spare batteries.  

"There's nothing nice about the Turks," Cloud replied, "They're not above kidnapping and torture. They're the kings of cloak and dagger within ShinRa." 

Zack had made a point to remain tight lipped about his role within ShinRa when he had been around. In her naivety, she thought it was because Zack knew better than to mix work and play on a date. She had noted several stark similarities between Zack and Cloud, though the bravado that Cloud carries which reminds her of Zack Fair seems much more transient. Zack didn't disguise his admiration of her in the slightest, whereas Cloud appeared oblivious much of the time to his own unique charm – when not in one of his episodes of tunnel vision.   

Aerith smiled, "And what are you, Cloud?" 

"I'm not ShinRa anymore." He said, rehearsing the same stoic detachment as he had every time she attempted to find out more about him. 

Aerith grasped her staff and tapped it against his shoulder guard and giggled, "So you keep saying, but you never seem to answer my question." 

Cloud smirked at her, "I'm your bodyguard." 

 _"_ _So where w_ _er_ _e you when she lost her footing_ _, just there?_ " Tifa muttered under her breath. Aerith snapped her head toward Tifa and caught the tail end of a glare shifting from Cloud onto herself, realizing she probably had not meant for that to be heard. Fidgeting with the straps of her suspenders, "...I guess we're headed to Junon," Tifa said, clenching her jaw tight. 

"Lead the way Cowgirl," Barret called out, throwing the flashlight to the brawler who in turn caught it effortlessly and was putting distance between herself and the group; making her way down the tunnel that the Turks had used. 

 

* * *

 

The tunnel they followed opened to a warren of dead ends and walkways blocked by collapsed rock. A wash of relief came over her as daylight became visible and the exit they strode toward the greenery at the end.  

"I think we should rest here for a while. Let's set up a base here, get a fire going and try to find something to eat." Aerith suggested, watching as Tifa set their possessions down in the center of the clearing, scoping the canopies for signs of life. She walked toward the brawler, her stomach having dropped earlier seeing the distinct flare of jealousy occupy her enchanting garnet eyes.  Drooping an arm around Tifa's stiff posture, she continued, "I think our Muscle here is getting hangry again." 

Tifa cracked a smile, "I'm always hungry." 

"Aw'right. I'm gonna go find water...maybe I'll get lucky n' catch us a couple of fish." Barret replied, "Cloud you foo', make yersel' useful and start the damn fire." 

Aerith turned away from Cloud and Red, catching Tifa's eye contact and refusing to let it go, "Look...I'm not sure why you're upset but I'm sorry if I stepped on your toes at all-" 

She watched as Tifa's jaw recalled it's rigidity from earlier, "-it's nothing." 

"Tifa...come on. You're a terrible liar." Aerith whispered in petition, rubbing the taller woman's upper back. Her gut tells her that whatever is simmering between Tifa and Cloud is suffering from lack of closure. Tifa shook her head and smiled incredulously, though Aerith caught her eyes betray her words as they flit between herself and Cloud. She's rapidly learning that they're both as stubborn as mules, and despite her best efforts - this emotional fog won't be cleared tonight. Still, she tugged Tifa in for a hug, the brawler warily draping her own arms around her back. 

A voice shrieked from the foliage, as the owner of the voice leapt out of the bushes, landing in front of Cloud, "Not so fast! I want all the materia you-" Yuffie stumbled back once she noticed Tifa, "-YOU again?!" 

"You know her?!" Cloud asked Tifa, yielding the Buster sword and assuming his hallmark battle stance. 

"I wouldn't say know..." Tifa smiled skittishly, walking forward and placing her hand on her hip. 

"YOU owe me a bunch of potions for what you did to my back, lady! You got no idea how long I was walkin' like an old lady for!" Yuffie yelled, shaking her fist, "You gonna pay, Wutai style!" 

"Oh, I'm quaking in my boots..." Tifa laughed, smirking at Aerith. She returned with a knowing smile. 

Barret came bumbling through the thick entanglement of brush, "Wus goin' on?! I leave for a secon' and ya findin' trouble! Who's this broad?!" 

"A child...a brave or foolish... one at that..." Red replied, stretching and taking guard next to Aerith. 

"I am the GREAT Yuffie! Here to exact retribution for Wutai and take all the materia!"  

Aerith clutched her staff, "Teef caught her rummaging through our bags back at Bill's..." 

"Yeah Teef! Did ya kick her ass?" Barret laughed, squinting at the young girl clutching at the weapon with four blades in her hands. 

Yuffie brandished her shuriken and bawled, "She did not! She was too busy drooling over  _her_  tits to defeat the greatest Ninja in Wutain history!! But here's your chance TIFA... Or should I call you BOOBs? Regain your honor and fight me!"  

Aerith snapped her head around to Tifa, as did Barret and Cloud; eyebrows disappearing into their respective hairlines and looking interchangeably puzzled between the fighter and the flower girl. Tifa herself gritting her teeth, having fallen victim to a deep blush. She felt her stomach flip, awash with butterflies again over the voluptuously cut tom boy. Now Aerith knows she can't be imagining things, she can't be imagining Tifa's heavy gazes... not when a complete stranger has just confirmed the fact, can she? 

"-I'll send you to Hades you runt..." Tifa jested, clutching her fire materia and exhaling over the glowing orb; sending flames forth, licking the air in the space between their group and the youthful adversary. It wasn't hard to see why Tifa favored fire materia as she did; the barmaid being an embodiment of the element itself. Warm, welcoming and smolderingly beautiful yet dangerous and a little unpredictable in the wrong circumstances. 

"I said FIGHT ME!! You talk too much!" Yuffie quipped, sticking her tongue out at Tifa. 

"That's funny... coming from you..." Cloud interjected, "You ready, little girl?" 

"Shut up you spikey haired jerk!" Yuffie swung and her weapon, cutting through the air between them and slicing clean through the flesh of Cloud's right arm. 

"Ha! Take that! Not so tough-" Yuffie howled, cut off from her manic oration as Cloud delivered a deft hit to Yuffie, sending her sailing backward through the air. At that point, Tifa was no longer by Aerith's side, instead air bound; grabbing her by the leather strap adorning her shoulder and throwing the girl careening into the dirt. 

She got up, wiping the blood which seeped slowly from her midriff. "Yeoowch! Lucky shot twerps. Catch this!" 

This time, Yuffie turned at Aerith and took aim. Without as much as a whisper of warning, Aerith clutched at the green Materia that she'd found in the Mines. Cloud or Tifa would have kittens if they knew she didn't  _know_  from experience what ability this particular orb granted it's owner; but  _faith_ in the faint words from the planet told her now would be a time to test her affinities. A filament of verdant light corded her staff; bridging the span and capturing the airborne shuriken and halting the weapon in midair.  _Stop._  

"Whaat? Where did ya learn that?!" Yuffie whined in bewilderment, running to her weapon. She regarded it, suspended in time and space by the tendril still weaving around the crevices of the four blades. 

"Maybe...maybe I will let you in on that secret and let you use our materia if you stop attacking us. Come with us." Aerith crooned, stepping toward Yuffie and ruffling her short black hair. Yuffie swatted her away, taking a step back and puffing out her chest.  

"Oh you gotta be kidding buttercup..." Barret groaned. 

"Maybe I WILL... You look like you need the strongest and most fierce!" She shrieked, reaching for her shuriken once more and failing to tug it out of suspended animation. 

Cloud scoffed, stepping up and shaking his head in dismissal, "You sure don't look very strong. Or fierce." 

"Ya well you don't look very smart yet here we are. You looking at the victor who single handedly destroyed the mighty Midgar Zolom!! Pow Pow!" The Ninja jumped, exuberantly flailing karate chops into Cloud's chest. 

"Uh...nice?" Cloud replied, looking toward Aerith with unease, "So...you in?" 

"I SAID so, didn't I?!"  

 

* * *

 

They could see the skyline of Junon and the port ahead; the iconic cannon taking centerstage in the horizon though they wouldn't make it by dusk and they still had to review their strategy before the got too close to the ShinRa Garrison. Tifa had dropped back, behind the others. As they ventured onward, Barret had slowed his pace, decidedly fatigued from Yuffie's innumerable tales.  

Barret sidled beside Tifa, inhaling quickly before continuing what he was going to say, "Dunno why you blush like you do. She's good for you." 

Tifa looked to Barret, faltering in her stride as the statement caught her off guard. Her heart had jumped a foot upward and sat in her throat. "Being out of Midgar is good for me." 

Barret chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Quit deflecting Teef. You've got yer spunk back." 

"Well..." Tifa pondered, clawing at any palpable reasoning she could surmise to justify his observations. "She's the first female friend I've had." 

"Jessie was your friend." Barret countered quickly, his knowing brown eyes searching her face. 

Tifa grinned, cocking a brow, "Jessie...whose idea of small talk was calculating the amount of red phosphorus and potassium chlorate needed to wipe the reactors out of existence... ha." 

"Well...'least you learned somethin' from her. Jes' sayin, Tifa. You look at Aerith like she hung the stars. Like I looked at Myrna..."  

Tifa replied hastily, "I'm straight, Barret. We're friends. BFFs." 

"So is spaghetti until it gets wet." 

"For ifrit's sake, Barret!" Tifa choked, laughing without abandon at the crude simile. A lot of people in passing had not been nearly endeared to Barret's tactless humor. But Tifa had grown to love him quickly, he possesses a heart many times larger than the gun he wields and she identified with his intense passion against the ShinRa Electric Power Company. 

Barret chuckled, "There's no shame if you were. You two might break some boys' hearts, if you do change yo' minds, though." 

Tifa laughed breathlessly, scratching the back of her neck, "Uh...thanks." 

Barret reached out for her arm, prompting her to slow her pace. "Listen... I love you like I love Marlene, Teef. I wanna see you happy after all this is over." 

She shook her head once more, looping her arm around Barret's waist and squeezing, "You're a good man and a great dad, Barret." 

 

* * *

 

Yuffie drives a hard bargain. It was Red who drew the short straw in the end, after Aerith bribed her with her own auxiliary ice materia to stop the Ninja from moving in on the tent that she and Tifa had been sharing. In spite of their differences, Barret and Cloud seemed relieved themselves to maintain their sleeping arrangements too.  

The men had left in search of burnable wood, and Yuffie's snoring was audible even with a 30 foot distance between the fire and her tent. Aerith sat by the fire, stoking it as needed while Tifa picked through their equipment and made an inventory of items they should attempt to hustle while in town. She had seemed quiet. Thoughtful. 

"So, Barret thinks we're lesbians," Tifa blurted out, her hair masking her eyes.  

At that point, Aerith needed the Time Materia to even start to process what had been metaphorically dropped into her lap. She was reminded her once more that their actions were skirting the line between platonic and romantic, but she remains steadfast that she won't commit to crossing it until Tifa starts consistently hinting that she will bat for the other team. Being caught one time looking at another woman's rack isn't conclusive proof of anything, anyway. But she'd be a liar if she claimed she doesn't long for the next time it happens, and the accompanying shrill of warmth that fills her as Tifa's appreciative gaze lands on her. 

"And Yuffie." Aerith sighed fondly. "Oh well, you know a friendship is solid when people are starting to spread rumors that we're gay for each other."  

 

Tifa's lips curled into a shy smile behind the waves of her hair, "He'll have a heart attack when I eventually have to rescue you from getting hit on by some guy by kissing you..."

Aerith suffocated the gasp to her lungs while Tifa's suggestion held her ransom. All saliva had departed from her mouth and she grasped at the fire stick, gouging into the dirt; praying for serenity and composure and finding none. In the interest of preserving decency, she stood up and headed to the tent; pausing only to stand close to Tifa – fighting against the brawler's gravity which lulled her into her lips if she hesitated too long.

"You mean Cloud will have a heart attack." She winked, and spanked Tifa on her rear, "Though it's interesting that the thought occurred to you-" Tifa has no right to throw her onto the back of a bird without consequence or flirt boldly while denying that they're anything more than friends. She can sure as heck soothe the sting in her ass while mulling on their implied love triangle for that, too.

 


	6. Chapter Six

"Sweet dreams, Tifa." Were the last words to pass Aerith's lips last night, as she pulled her sleeping bag parallel to her own – inches away.

An incorrigible tease. That's what she is, Tifa scowled the next morning; pinned in place on her back by the leg hooked ever-so-slightly over her own and the relaxed hand of the slumbering flower girl draped lightly over her stomach. She doesn't recall when exactly she volunteered to be a cuddle buddy either; but that must come with the territory within girl culture once you open your bed up for sharing. Not that she has the faintest idea.

She has to get up. Not because her circadian rhythm tells her that it's close to day break, and that they have a mountain to move as far as getting into Junon undetected is concerned, no. It's the images she sees when she closes her eyes that cause Tifa to crave her own space. She's had erotic dreams in the past, but this one was different. So vivid and felt so very real. 

They were breathless together; Tifa was pressed into a bed under the weight of the woman above her. A thigh slid between her own, they pushed into one another – her desire to feel this other woman's ragged breath against her bare skin. This woman who lifted her tank over her head, removed her bra and Tifa allowed it. Because fuck it, she didn't care about the scar. She didn't give a damn about much else outside of the throb of arousal between her legs and the thigh which ground intimately against her.

She has to get up because she's aching and Aerith's limbs are doing absolutely nothing to help her. She's sleeping and peaceful, but she recalls the soft and plump lips ghosting her own and looking up into the mystery woman's eyes to find they were an opulent emerald green.

Tifa screwed her eyes closed, frozen. It has been too long since she has felt her own release, and her need is only worsened by the reality that her crush rapidly turned into an avalanche of want. She wants Aerith. And she honestly hopes Aerith doesn't wake because she'd never explain her way out of this – covered in a sheen of sweat and disheveled. Inhaling, she gently removed Aerith's hand and slid out from under her leg. Discarding the t-shirt she slept in; she pulled on her skirt and tank and grabbed her boots, feeling the dewy grass beneath her feet as she stepped out of the tent – panicked. 

She was being honest when she said being out of Midgar was doing a world of good for her. But she hadn't banked on experiencing an identity crisis of her own as part of this adventure. Was it normal to have explicit dreams about being with other women, even though Tifa - up until this point - identified as being straight? She'd never spoken to anyone about this before and had assumed that her admiration of some of the more successful (and pretty) women who came by the bar was within entirely normal social parameters. 

But now she's doubting herself and picking apart every interaction she's ever had with women, down to how closely she'd observed the maids working in father's manor. 

To make matters worse, she can barely bring herself to admit to having liked being objectified without feeling pissed off that she allowed herself to be. How is she even supposed to react to that? Father had done a decent job of warning her about teenage boys but never in a million years would he have even thought to warn her about the women with soft curves for days and ambiguity as their middle name.

Clawing at the roots of her hair, she had to calm down. Surveying the branch under which their tent was pitched, it was just the right circumference to grip onto - to hammer out a few pull ups. 

The turmoil she experienced following the loss of her mother when she was a girl was the catalyst which had catapulted her into athleticism and self-defense in the first place. The burn through the cords of muscle being the cathartic release of the emotions that she had trouble with processing on her own. After the fire had ravaged Nibelheim and taken everything away from her; after she had recovered – the heavy metal and iron were still there when her hero was not.  Somehow in purposefully causing her muscle fibers to rip and tear, those feelings were wrapped up in them and eventually forgotten as time and new muscle healed over the old. Tifa thought she became stronger.

Grasping the branch, Tifa hung for a moment; allowing her arms to stretch under her body weight. Pressing her chest outward, she drew her shoulder blades together and pulled herself up. 

One. Two. Three.

Aerith is one of the most bizarrely wonderful people that Tifa has ever met. A firm grasp on morality and standing up where she sees injustice, but comfortable with dancing in the grey areas of life. Flirtatious by nature; it's written into her DNA, but her heart is bigger than the smile she wears. And then there's Cloud. 

Four. Five. Six.

Just what exactly is going on with him, and what are her own feelings for him? He used to be sweet, quiet if not a little weird. Yet funny, if only the other kids in the village had bothered to see past his social anxiety. But he was not at all what he is now, five years since she last saw him. 

Her gut screams at her that she is hanging onto him now because they're all they have now to hold onto Nibelheim and their past. Hanging on for what-could-have-beens' and the promise he made to her when they were teenagers. But in reality...in the present? So much has changed since that blond boy left Nibelheim to become a man in Midgar.

Seven. Eight. Nine.

Sure...Cloud is everything she could ever want physically and she wouldn't deny that at all; his eyes still make her melt. But they're not a match.  Not anymore. ShinRa has changed him. Robbed him of his delicate heart and replaced it with a mechanical replica which pretends to beat. 

Ten. Eleven. Twelve.

And she hates ShinRa for what they did to him. She wants to hate Cloud for wanting to be SOLDIER so much - and to hate that irritating black haired SOLDIER 1st Class who Cloud placed on a pedestal when they returned with the silver haired General.

Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen.

But Aerith makes her feel everything. Aerith makes her feel alive. Her heart races and leaps in excitement when she's near and she has no doubt that she'd put herself on the line for her. She hadn't expected any of this a month ago, when she witnessed Cloud in the decrepit playground and her heart sank as her eyes trained on the curvaceous brunette he was sitting with.  She would never have anticipated that she would hang on her every word while learning about the different types of plants and herbs they encounter, or enjoy sitting still while Aerith braids her hair by the fire. Aerith completely disarms her and it's terrifying but she loves it; yet she knows comparatively little about the woman. 

Dropping from the branch, she felt satisfied with the warmth occupying the muscles of her back and arms. As tempting as it would be to continue until her muscles fail, she can't allow herself to become too fatigued.

Tifa rubbed her face, indelicately exfoliating the old skin and dirt from her eyes. She should probably stop trying to label exactly what she has with the flower girl. Even though she's maddeningly intoxicated every time Aerith makes an unchaste remark; she'll settle on friendship knowing it's tangible and try to let go of anything else – allowing their multifaceted interactions to fall into a vacuity she specifically reserves for the feelings that she can't illustrate with spoken words.

"Oh...g'morning Tifa..." Cloud said, shirtless, startled as she was to see he wasn't the only one awake. 

She offered a faint smile, tracing the length of his torso, "Morning. You're up early."

"Uh ..yeah. I wanted to get in some squats before we get going." He contemplated her for a moment, as he pulled the navy shirt over his head.

"Same here. Pull ups...I mean." Tifa replied, turning her back and completing the final five reps of the set, masking the warmth in her cheeks.

As she dropped, Cloud approached the branch and with ease began grinding through a series of the compound exercise. He spoke through delayed breath, "Why do you do it?"

Tifa walked around him, furrowing her brows - yet smiled. "That's open ended, even coming from you."

"Martial arts," He said between breaths, "body building-"

"-I don't body build." She replied, cutting him off, "I powerlift. There's a difference." 

"Sorry..." Cloud smiled, his cobalt gaze studied her, "Why do you do it?"

She flushed again under his scrutiny. "Well...why do you?"

"To be strong enough to protect people." 

Honest enough, she supposed. Rehearsed, absolutely. "I guess I'm not so valiant. So I'm strong to protect myself."

Cloud cracked a lopsided grin, one as handsome as she remembered, "And you want to look good naked.” 

Tifa chuckled hesitantly, ducking her gaze elsewhere.  _Awkward_. The Cloud prior to his induction to the ShinRa Infantry wouldn't have been able to say that without tying his tongue into a knot. "Being around those SOLDIER guys sure changed you." 

"I...I still want to protect you." Cloud dropped from the tree limb. He wore a conflicted expression and Tifa struggled to decipher what he really meant by that. "I mean...If you need me. If you need to talk ...about anything...I'm here."

"Cloud I..." She sighed, cradling her forehead in her palm. 

"What is it Tifa?" He asked, concern written into the minute creases between his brows. He almost looked lost. Like a puppy.

She wanted to push him away. Confused by her thoughts and unsure of herself. Instead, Tifa grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, pulling him down to her height and into their first embrace since the fire. She watched as the sun rose over his broad shoulders. The illuminated landscape was utterly alien yet made all the more heartbreaking by the familiar debris of warfare under their boots, scattered from Fort Condor. "If you want me to confide in you... You have to let me back in, too." 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The village below Junon was as Tifa remembered it when she visited once as a child, just devoid of the warmth that made it worthy of that term. A collection of run-down buildings standing in defiance of the owners who have since moved on; roads laid like carpets for the military installation that dominates in the city above. Banners hung with slogans welcoming the new President to be read only by the dust-laden wind and the stray cats darting from alley to alley chasing the rats out of sight; the market was still set up like it awaited the stall holders any moment to decorate their shelves with produce from the lands beyond the Eastern Continent. The only sound breaking the silence as they walked into the destitute cluster of houses and stores was the black bird that cried as if it could bring back the people who used to frequent the fishing town, who left scraps of food if only it called loud enough. 

They met a girl named Priscilla and her family - finding familiar ground with the villagers on their mutual hatred of ShinRa and discussing their obsession with the Mako reactor at Fort Condor. Word around the village was that Rufus and his executives were in Junon, and the celebrations were being held to commemorate his inauguration into Presidency.  Cloud suspected the parade in the upper part of the city was a pretense, and that Sephiroth had probably passed through using the port to board a ship – whatever quest he is under taking would very likely take him to the Western continent. Tifa didn't have the energy to spar with him on the nature of his hunches or why he seems so sure of Sephiroth's intentions – instead she rallied around the card table that night to brainstorm ideas of how best to sneak around the watchful eye of ShinRa.

Priscilla and her family offered their guest rooms to the group after they'd helped Priscilla escape a sea serpent. She, Aerith and Yuffie had mocked Cloud unremittingly for his hesitancy to perform mouth-to-mouth CPR, which only added onto the growing list of inconsistencies that Tifa had been tallying pertaining to Cloud. The most concerning thus far, Cloud awoke following their first night staying in Junon and couldn't seem to recall having been reunited with her at all five years ago.

Tifa paused before entering Priscilla's home. She joined Yuffie to drum up some kind of disguise before they attempted to tailgate the celebration parties above. If ShinRa operatives were alerted that they were in the city, it would be damn near impossible to leave. Red had spotted wanted posters left stapled on light poles, their blurred closed caption photographs printed beneath the plentiful reward offered for their capture. If they were recognized, all exits to Junon would become security checkpoints.

 The young ninja was manifesting into a useful comrade. Utilizing a blowgun that Yuffie claimed she had crafted herself, she shot a dart containing a tranquilizer at the ShinRa sentry posted by the elevator – the tranquilizer procured from the sap of a plant that Aerith found outside of Fort Condor. Scurrying to the comatose Sentry and covered by the shadows of the airfield, Tifa grabbed the guard's duffle bag and they sprinted back to Priscilla's home. Inside the bag, they found clean pressed Infantry attire and a spare sailor's uniform.

She shoved open the door, finding Aerith sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room. She glanced up, and smiled at her – sending tingles down Tifa's spine. "Well, I haven't seen sparks flying or heard a body drop into the water so I think Cloud scaled the tower successfully."

"We wouldn't expect anything less, would we?" Tifa replied, twisting her lips with a surreptitious glance of her own. 

She dropped the bag onto the bed, running the zipper open. Aerith surveyed the contents of the bag with a quirked brow, "Are we playing dress up?" 

“If we're going to get on that ship, yeah. I need you to bind me.” She replied, shrugging off her fortuitous choice of words and opening the closet door. She grabbed the musty linen sheet, and held it up. Grasping at either side, she tore the fabric into two strips and folded them together.

“I hadn't marked you as the kinky type.” Aerith grinned, smirking at her with candid amusement written over her face as she took the linen from Tifa's hand.

Tifa smiled roguishly over her shoulder, “Your pink dress doesn't exactly boast that you're into BDSM either. At least I'm wearing leather.”

Aerith set the cloth down and walked behind her. Under assertive finger tips she gathered Tifa’s hair into her hand; Aerith pulled at her pony tail and she felt herself be tugged backwards, “Everyone likes surprises,” She responded with a heady gaze.

Tifa shed her shirt, lifting her arms. Much of her self-consciousness cast aside, she reveled in her silence and waited for Aerith to fill in the gaps and make a start on reconstituting her physical form.

"You attract a lot of attention in that skirt, you know." She said finally, arms snaking under Tifa's and swapping the ends between hands – tugging it firm as her silver bangles chaffed against Tifa’s torso.

Tifa fought to suppress a gasp, "What about you? Wearing leathers, I mean-" She continued after a moment, languishing in the close proximity to her friend and the heat radiating from her.

Aerith grinned, making another pass over her breasts with the fabric, "I think leather clothing is reserved for bad asses."

 "Stop undercutting yourself... Not many people go through hell and can still spare a smile for the devil." Tifa admonished. She's not sure how Aerith manages to wade through discourse with Tseng or any ShinRa affiliate with the amount of grace that seems so effortless to her, "You earned the right to wear whatever you damn well want."

Aerith shook her head with a smile of playfulness and rolled her eyes. "I'll leave the leathers to you...but thank you."

"A brown leather jacket would look great on you. A fitted one," Tifa confessed with a grin, eyeing the way the pink dress clings to Aerith's slim waist, and hugs the shape of her hips. She stops there, not wanting to torment herself in consideration of the pale thighs that she knows are peeking through the slit in her dress.

She caught Aerith smiling once more, this time with the unholy delight that Tifa has come to know is a precursor for conversations of a personal nature. Aerith fluttered her hand as if to dismiss the thought, “Maybe. Feel like telling me what you keep hidden in your underwear drawer yet?”

“Wow you're persistent.” Tifa said, her voice jumping up an octave as Aerith tied the linen tight over her heaving chest. Her fingers hesitated on the knot between her scapula, and Tifa wondered if she could feel her heart thumping steadily against her ribcage. “Take a guess.”

Aerith struggled to keep a straight face, softly grabbing Tifa's shoulders and spinning her around. Face to face. “I think you have a vibrator.”

Tifa immediately dropped her gaze to the ground, feeling the capillaries in her face dilate. Nervously sweeping her hair out of her eyes, she swallowed the embarrassment with a sheeping smile. “Bingo.”

“That isn't as scandalous as you think, you dork.” Aerith said earnestly, followed by a soft giggle as she flattened the creases in the fabric from bunching into Tifa's arm pits. 

Her heart stopped it's freefall, knowing judgement is a quality beneath her friend and she felt more ashamed that she had feared Aerith's opinion at all. “Right. If Corneo’s mansion is the standard."

“The gold standard. If not a little trashy," She said, wiggling her eyebrows. "I knew you'd tell me eventually.”

“You don't give me a lotta choice!” Tifa exclaimed, cheeks burning hotly as she yanked off her skirt as discretely as she could manage and pulled on the dark blue cargo pants.

“But you need to learn that owning your sensuality isn't anything you should be ashamed of. Its healthy and very normal to enjoy yourself.” Aerith replied as Tifa looked up; finding her eyes a piercing combination of intense focus and captivating softness unique only to Aerith.

Tifa fought to keep herself talking to avoid an unnecessary and charged silence, "I stole it."

Aerith raised her brow once more, laughing lightly, "Half of my lingerie didn't come from clean money either, Tifa. I wouldn't call you a saint, but that's hardly a worthy crime to make you my jail bird."

Tifa felt a numbing sensation in her face caused only by sustaining her grin, trying to ignore the all-encompassing shrill of desire from the suggestion of being Aerith's  _something_ , "Dad wouldn't have been happy if he'd found it." She felt liberated, finding freedom in a lack of shame.

"So what? He wouldn't have been able to shield you forever." 

 She adjusted the belts, buckles and loops associated with the infantry garb, looking over herself. They had to do something with her hair, but at least her proportions were more in line with the typical male frame. She toyed with the helmet in her hands, "Uh...How do I look?" Tifa asked shyly, twirling around in the mirror and saluting her reflection.

"I'm wondering if Cloud looked better in a dress or you, the androgynous SOLDIER. You look dapper," Aerith said, biting her lip and removing Tifa's earrings; placing them in her pocket.

“This may do better as a barf bag…Yuffie mentioned she gets sea sick,” Tifa replied resolutely, grabbing the sailor hat and placing it on Aerith's head. "Get dressed. We have a boat to catch."

"Yes, SIR!" Aerith laughed, fingers at her chest and unbuttoning the buttons of her dress without dropping the eye contact with the brawler. 

Tifa hurriedly turned to leave, and headed toward the door to the back yard. Once outside, she slammed her fist into the first object which she happened upon, an empty wooden barrel. She heard Aerith call from inside, "Tifa, are you alright?"

"I fell." Tifa lied through gritted teeth, the lamest excuse she had coined to date.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter inspired by ~  
> Chandelier by Sia   
> Crying in The Club by Camila Cabello

“That was ambush!” Tifa yelped, unhooking her arms from around Aerith's neck and releasing her from the headlock. She stood, and offered Aerith a hand in standing up.

She couldn't help but spare a conspiratorial glance toward Cloud, “SOLDIER tactics. I told you the Turks were trying to recruit me,” Aerith laughed, taking Tifa's hand.

Tifa shook her head, rolling her eyes and pulled her hand skittishly away from Aerith's, “You kick butt, I'll credit you that much.”

Aerith was impressed with herself, too. There was a reason why she had managed to evade the Turks as well as she had throughout her adolescence; maturing in the slums taught every young adult to remain vigilant – which meant reading into the body language of everyone in her immediate vicinity. Red flags were raised immediately on sight of behaviors which seemed _off_ , whatever the reason.

When she awoke from dozing on the sun lounger, the opportunity just seemed right to jump in on the spar that Cloud and Tifa were engaged in a little way down the shore and away from the other vacationers. Cloud caught Tifa's calf mid kick and caught her off balance. Aerith grabbed her staff, tightened the beach sash around her hips and launched herself at the brawler. Cloud saw her coming and it was only due to his line of sight that clued Tifa in to anticipate the onslaught from behind. She spun, smiling with an antagonizing flare in her eyes - she grabbed the staff in both hands. Aerith threw herself into Tifa with everything, though she would never overpower her. Tifa has to be at least fifty pounds heavier than her with enough strength to squat Barret's body weight, so bracing herself for an impact of Aerith's proportions would be no sweat from her back.

She weighed her options. Trying to continue any offensive movements would probably be fruitless as Cloud bowed out – so she hooked her leg around Tifa's knee and calf. Bending her knee, she displaced Tifa's balance and used her own mass against her. They tumbled, Aerith landing beneath her. It would have been a perfectly cliched clinch; Tifa hovering over her on all fours and pinned – wearing nothing more than a t shirt and bikini bottoms - had it not been for the fighter's lightning reflexes and maneuvering to lock her into submission. _Checkmate._

Looking over Tifa's shoulder, there were a group of three women clad in bikinis which left little to the imagination gathered around someone sitting in a beach chair.

“Heehee oh well then, leave me with this one here. I want this one.” She'd recognize his voice anywhere.

“Geez, all the good ones are gone...” Definitely him.

“Cloud...” She gasped, grabbing Tifa's wrist and nodding in Professor Hojo's direction.

Tifa whipped her head around, seeing the threat and cast a protective arm around Aerith's shoulders; pulling her in close to her, “Cloud, get over here. Go talk to him.”

Cloud lowered his head, looking over the rim of his sunglasses and smiled, “Hmm? You want me to talk to those girls?”

Tifa rebuked him, “You idiot, it's Hojo. Get over there and find out why he's here.” Aerith felt her fingers clawing lightly into her shoulder.

Aerith drew her hand over her eyes, leaning into Tifa, “I've a bad feeling about this.”

They watched Cloud jog over to the lounger, confronted by the women who seemed to be pushing him away. Stooping under the sun parasol, Cloud removed his glasses and tapped the deranged professor on the shoulder, “I want to talk to you.”

“Who do you think you are?! Can't you see the professor is _busy?_ ” The busty red head spat at him, as the other girls sized Cloud.

“Quite alright... It has been a long time Cloud.”

“What are you doing here?”

“It should be obvious. I'm getting a tan.” Hojo's lip curled as he spoke, setting his papers down.

Cloud squinted at him, nodding to Tifa and Aerith to come over. “I wasn't born yesterday. What are you really doing here?”

Tifa clutched Aerith's hand, the sand hot under their feet as they walked over to join the conversation.

Aerith's stomach lurched and she felt sick when Hojo regarded her, as it always had. Her reaction to being in the presence of the lecherous Scientist hadn't changed at all since childhood.

“I believe we share the same goal.”

“You mean Sephiroth? Cloud asked, he was glowering now.

Hojo's face lit up, his face misshapen with glee as he whispered, “Have you see him?”

Cloud nodded reluctantly.

“I see. Ha!” He jumped onto the chair; the weave of the lounger straining under the uneven weight distribution. She wished it would snap.

“What is it now?”

“Just recalling a certain hypothesis. I don't expect you to understand, but do you have the feeling that something is calling you – to visit a place?”

Cloud snarled at his cryptic responses and grabbed the professor's lab coat, “I'm going to find him. I'm going to stop him.”

“Heehee, this could be interesting. Were you a SOLDIER? I'd love another guinea pig...”

“Ex SOLDIER.” Cloud glowered, the hilt of the buster sword now firmly in the palm of his hand.

“Ha! Ha! Ha! Draw your sword, you fool! Strength is powerless against science!” Hojo replied, turning now to face Aerith. “Hello _dear,_ aren't you the 'Ancient'?”

She let go of Tifa's hand; the brawler's flesh marred with indents from her fingertips and her own palm sweating as she rebuked Hojo's choice of pronouns for her, “Would it kill you to call me by my name, just once? I'm Aerith. And I happen to be an Ancient. My birth mother told me.”

Hojo grinned, his eyes lit up like the billboard from the upper-plate of Midgar. “Oh, you must mean Ifalna... tell me, how is she?”

She looked to Tifa before she answered, whose brows were knitted in anger of her own. “Don't ...don't tell me you don't know that she died-”

“Hmm. I see. What a shame.”

“-You could at least offer condolences you cockroach,” Tifa spat, seething. Cloud nodded, affirming the sentiment.

“You owe this much to me... tell me, Hojo – Jenova and Sephiroth... are they ancients too? Do we share the same blood?” Minerva only knows how she pulled off sounding so calm while her insides churn and rage.

Hojo resumed jostling through his papers, distracted and consumed by his thoughts, “-Head west...”

“Answer her!” Cloud and Tifa cried in unison; Cloud shoving Hojo into the seat of the chair.

Hojo looked up, and mumbled unintelligibly to the women at his side.

* * *

 

Aerith felt hollow as they walked in silence back to the inn, chained by her thoughts. She spent so much of her life under his watch as Hojo presided over her mother. His words cut deep and chiseled away at her; Was this her worth? Did her friends see her as he did, a third wheel or worse – a possession, an experiment...a means to an end?

They bumped into the man she remembers as Johnny as they walked the hallway of the beach side hotel. Tifa seemed anxious to speak to him alone, and while she sought Tifa's company, she didn't deny her the opportunity to make up for any lost time. It was her vacation too.

“You sure you don't mind?” Tifa queried, searching for her eyes and holding either of Aerith's arms.

“I'll be fine. I need to lie down...I wasn't expecting that and this humidity is exhausting,” Aerith waved her off, and clicked the door behind her. She felt awash with fatigue, as she peeled back the sheets. She collapsed onto the bed; curling into a ball and tugging the blankets over her head.

 

* * *

 

She heard a glass thud on being set on the bedside table and felt the bed sink under the weight of another as she found herself rousing from the god awful feeling of having taken a nap too late in the day. What time was it?

“Hey sleepy.” Tifa's hand stroked the stray hairs from her face, “Everyone else went down to the bar and grille for dinner. Feeling up to it?”

_6.27pm_

Aerith groaned, pulling herself out of the sheets. Tifa's hand now resting over her knees, she squeezed lightly.

Aerith shook her head, feeling like it was stuffed with cotton wool. “No appetite.”

“You need to eat.”

“I need a drink,” Aerith replied.

Tifa nodded her head at the glass of water.

“No. I need a drink.” She repeated.

Tifa's brows furrowed and she looked at her skeptically as she dug into the beach bag, handing Aerith a small bag of nuts, “I'm not sure that's the greatest idea after earlier. Don't roll your eyes at me!”

Aerith pursed her lips, smiling, “Pretty please, Tifa? You don't want me out there alone, do you?”

Tifa's mouth dropped open, contemplating her answer before the words came forth, “No of course I don't, but we can do that here? There's an off license liquor store in one of the alleys.”

“We talked about this,” Aerith teased, jabbing a finger into her midriff, “Our twenties are destined for poor judgment. Look at what we're doing! We're going to change the world, aren't we? Come on. We deserve this.”

“You're not gonna drop it are you?”

“Nope.”

“Okay.” Tifa sighed, standing up. “Guess we'll get to wear those clothes after all.”

Renewed with a sense of purpose for the evening, Aerith jumped out of bed – flicking on the radio and bounding toward the wardrobe, “Stop acting like this is painful you nerd, we're going to have _fun_! These are the good old days of our lives!”

_7:49pm_

They dressed in relative silence, bar a few choice words from the former barmaid about the plunging neckline of the jumpsuit she now wore.

Aerith cocked a brow at her reflection in the mirror, satisfied with her own dress and the way it hugged her form. Tifa had been waiting for a few minutes now, anxiously picking at the straps of her sandals.

“Own it, you look stunning Tifa.” Aerith's reflection grinned at her, and she felt her face redden.

“It's very revealing.”

Green eyes raked over her once more, “So was that dress you were wearing when I met you.”

“Touche.” Tifa replied quietly, pausing in a brief daze.

“I have an idea-” Aerith quipped, procuring a bottle of ivory coloured foundation and a brush. Her eyes darted between Tifa's chest and her eyes.

Tifa narrowed her eyes as she regarded Aerith, taking the wild guess and running with it; she acquiesced, “Get it over with.”

Her heart hammered in her chest as Aerith delicately and expertly applied the base over and into each crevice of the scar covering her left breast until the uneven tissue blended with her flesh; forcing her gaze heavenward and willing her body to cease responding to each stroke of the brush.

“...There.” Aerith said quietly, offering a smile and setting down the make-up. Grabbing their purses and the shawls strewn over the back of the chair, they headed out.

The air had cooled considerably following the sun set, though the club they were walking towards promised warmth as the droves of young vacationers moved to the pounding bass of the music like puppets on strings. Aerith clasped her hand tightly around Tifa's, as she lead them through the crowd toward the bar.

“I'll take a White Russian,” Tifa yelled across the bar to the attendant, having ultimately decided that alcohol may be the only solution to helping her feel more at home in this environment. Seventh Heaven had been a haven for those seeking refuge from their struggles; Nibelheim had one pub and she seldom thought to go in there. Clubs filled with rambunctious young adults reverberating within close proximity to each other seemed like a completely alien world to her; and she wondered if Aerith had been to any of the upscale clubs and bars above the plate in Midgar.

The bar attendant drew closer to speak to the Flower girl, “And what for you, doll?”

Aerith grinned between him and Tifa, “Sex On The Beach.”

She watched Aerith shift on the stool, looking around the club. Her fingers tapped on the counter before wicked eyes trained back to her, “What's going on between you and Johnny?”

Tifa regarded her, “Nothing, now. He's getting hitched.”

Aerith swung her legs on the stool, facing her. Knees graze. She pulled Tifa's hand into her own and traced figure eights into her palm. Her heart rate hastened.

“What went on between you and Johnny?”

“We grew up together, in Nibelheim. He, like Cloud, left for SOLDIER. We rekindled some time after I came to Midgar.”

Her tongue slipped, and Aerith pounced, “You rekindled, did you?” Her hold around Tifa's wrist tightened as she wiggled her brows and beamed, “Did you two-?”

She pulled her hand from the tabletop, sweeping her bangs away as was her nervous gesture, “Yes. We did.”

Aerith clapped her hands over her mouth and laughed, “Tell me! When did you two...get together?”

“Don't you look at me like that! We weren't rolling around in barns as kids... It just happened. And then the night Johnny found Seventh Heaven. We spoke into the night, drank a little. It became a thing.” Tifa replied, blushing as she took her drink from the barman; taking a generous swig.

Aerith leaned closer in, eyes ablaze with intrigue and a million questions flying behind them she lowered her voice, “Was he good?”

Tifa spluttered into the back of her hand, deliberately playing the non nondescript card with a shy smile, “Good enough at the time...”

“And now?”

“Absolutely not.”

When Tifa looked back at her, Aerith's grin was worth the slight unease.

Over the music, innumerable high pitched squeals came from the gaggle of women closest to the door, _“Oh Cloud you're here!”_

“ _Hello handsome!”_

“I'm gonna go over there and slash his inflated ego-” Tifa muttered derisively.

“Let him have his moment,” Aerith replied, removing the orange from the cocktail and sucking on the pulp, “Though you seem jealous.”

Tifa set her glass down with a little more fervor than intended, and flagged the bartender for another drink, “I told you, there's nothing between us. I liked him, a lot. But he didn't act like he felt the same.”

“He was probably scared, dummy.” Aerith said in between sips, stirring the liquid with the umbrella straw. She continued when Tifa offered silence, “It takes a lot of confidence to talk to someone as pretty and as sweet as you. Even if you are a little...dense.”

Tifa flushed at Aerith's statement; avoiding her eyes and looking across the bar at the men playing darts in the corner.

“Tifa, what do you think of me?” The loaded question came like a Mack truck out of nowhere.

Her head jerked back to face Aerith, whose eyes were heavy and bereft of her previous energy, “Aerith? What's wrong?”

“I want to know what you think of me.” She repeated slowly, the corners of her lips twitching and with labored breath. If she squinted past the strobes of light against the darkness, she may have seen her eyes well too.

Tifa felt suffocated, never one for open ended questions without a sense of direction. Pushing back against her own fears and anxiety, she answered in part – honestly at least, “Aerith, I – You're my best friend. You're the best friend I've always needed but didn't have.” She swallowed hard, hoping her answer was the right one.

Apparently it was, as the Ancient knocked the breath she was holding clean from her lungs as she collided into her, arms thrown around Tifa's neck and tugged into an all consuming hug, “Thank you,” Aerith replied, breathy, “...thank you.”

Tifa held her for a moment, rubbing her back before pulling away. Whatever it is that is troubling their Flowergirl now masked by her effervescent smile again.“Anytime. You okay?”

“Hojo got to me earlier. I don't want to think about that anymore tonight, you made me feel a little better,” Aerith's braid whipped around as she whistled for the barman and held up two digits, “Hey you, can I get some Tequila shots over here?”

“No, no. No. I can't drink Tequila without vivid memories of borderline alchohol poisoning and spending a night hovering over a toilet-” Aerith stuck her tongue out at her. Tifa stuck hers out on reflex, “-Right back at you!”

“Hey girls,” Cloud called, sliding into the stool next to Tifa as the shots arrived before them.

Aerith pushed the shot, lime and salt toward him, “Here he is! Man up, Cloud, and drink this. Tifa's a tap out.”

 

* * *

 

Aerith waltzed into the crowd dancing on the floor, disappearing briefly among bodies gyrating with the beat of a song remixed to a degree teetering on irrecognizable bar the main hook.

“You look like you're having fun,” Cloud teased, scoping the room.

“As do you-,” Tifa cocked a smile, “You have quite the following.”

He shut the door on the topic of that conversation, his attention following the same train as Tifa's; searching the club, “What brings you two out?”

Tifa swirled the drink; mixing the Kahlua evenly with the milk, “Aerith.”

“Of course...” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled.

“Don't start.”

“What?!”

“I still know you, Cloud. Don't go there.”

“I'll step back-” He blanched, “Ouch!”

“You'll back off that topic.” Tifa snapped, delivering a discreet fist to his ribcage, “She's my friend and you are more than welcome to sweep her off her feet. She needs someone to do that for her.”

“Someone like you?” Cloud studied Tifa, his brows drawing together. He hovered close, “You're not the only one who she confides in. Your poker face needs work, too.”

Her forehead puckered as she leaned into the bartop, “If, hypothetically, she likes me; why hasn't she already said something? This is Aerith we're talking about...”

“Golly gee Tifa, I know I'm good but I'm no mind reader.”

“You need to stop doing that cocky thing in that weird accent.” She blinked, giving him a once over.

“You're mean.”

“Love you too, Cloud.”

_12:06am_

Cloud left her side a little later, joining the group of people stood around the pool table. Tifa finished her second drink. She kept a close eye on Aerith, and the man who bought her not one - but two rounds. She wasn't above sending him through a wall if he so much as appeared to be tampering with her drinks.

She cast an eye over the dance floor again, dancing strangers becoming clumsy as the night grew older. In the middle of them, it wasn't hard to find her. Jostling against the bodies surrounding her, hands above her head; moving like the song beat to the same tune as her heart – feeling the moment in her veins and Tifa finds herself captured. Speechless and unable to avert her gaze, chained by Aerith's charisma and willingness to express herself so freely among complete strangers. Maybe it was the alcohol allowing these thoughts to flood her conscious mind. Maybe this was a bad idea.

Tifa collared the attendant for a glass of water, sparing a forced smile for the patrons throwing around the word “Lightweight”.

Moments later, a sweaty hand landed on her back; almost jumping from her skin, she spun.

“Tifa, relax... I want to dance with you now.” Aerith said, giving her a lop sided grin.

Unease and excitement quelled within her, she really shouldn't.

“I- I have two left feet. You don't want to dance with me.” Tifa looked down. At her shoes. A safe bet, before glancing back at her friend.

Aerith's eyes were dilated, wide yet laden with something she couldn't put her finger on. Her speech slower if not a little slurred, “I know what I want.”

Aerith moved closer, her balance off kilter and the heavy smell of hard liquor on her breath lingered and stung Tifa's nose.

“Tifa you haven't drank enough. Come on...Put those men and that woman out of their misery and get up. Dance with me. They're staring at you and your ass -and I don't blame them. At all.” Aerith giggled, draping her arm around Tifa's waist. Her fingers stroking and _that_ look in her eyes.

“I think you've had enough-”

Aerith whined, her cheeks pinkened and pores dewy from the alcohol, “No, spoil sport,” She huffed.

Tifa hooked her arm under and around Aerith's waist, taking the Cetra's arm over her shoulder and began walking through the crowd toward the exit. The salt in the cool night air a very welcome contrast as the breeze kicked over their faces, once through the door and into the street. Aerith remained relatively quiet as the onslaught of alcohol inevitably pillaged her bloodstream and what little was left of a sober mind. The noise from the club grew fainter. Tifa focused on her stride and not the way their hips brushed or the pliant and soft body she supported.

“Tifa, you know-” Aerith slurred, her pronunciation slow. Her face screwing slighty, “If you ever come to your senses...and want to find a place to eat out. I'm right here.”

Tifa lurched, her chest tight and feeling every word resonate between her legs. It would be so easy, she thinks, to indulge. To take a kiss from her. To allow the moment and their friction to come to a head and relieve.

It would also be very immoral. Aerith isn't of sound mind, she doesn't know what she's thinking, does she? Tifa doubts herself. She's been witness on countless occasion that a drunk mind speaks sober thoughts. _Fuck._ No.

“I'm not hungry right now, Aerith. I think we need to get back to the hotel. Just another street to go.” Tifa said blankly, clenching her jaw.

“I want another drink.” Aerith mumbled as they approached the inn.

“You need a bed.”

“Tifa Lockhart, are you coming onto me?”

_Keep your hands to yourself Tifa._

Barret was sat on the bench, the inn keeper's cat sat on his lap. His mouth quivered, Tifa cast him an anticipatory glare. He straightened the smile but his eyes quizzed her.

“Later.” Tifa mouthed.

For all her fighting talk, Aerith didn't resist the pull of the cool bed sheets under the ceiling fan whirling above. Tifa tugged her shoes off, settling against agitating her by removing anything else. She couldn't bargain on herself tonight. Kicking off her own shoes, she turned off the light and clicked the lock of the bathroom door behind her and slid into the shower; hoping Aerith was slumbering and not hearing her under the sound of the water pattering against the shower curtain.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah I'm sorry this took so long to update. At some point I'll probably hash out an Aerith/Tifa playlist for anyone wondering which songs help influence my writing.
> 
> This was fun to write, though I hope that I didn't take too many liberties writing a drunk Aerith.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reconciling the night previous.

_Those gull cries are offensive, and those children are too loud. Thank heavens for curtains. Why am I awake?_

She felt heavy, her body sluggish and weary as she sat up; squinting away from the crack in the closed drapes, to the clock. To Tifa, laying on her back next to her and breathing lightly - may or may not be asleep, she couldn't focus enough to tell. Aerith licked her lips, her mouth feeling dry and sticky with thick saliva and pressure mounting, swelling like an inflating balloon under her cranium. As seconds spent slumped into her drawn knees passed, the sensation that the room was swaying like the ocean - pulsing like the heart of the sea quickly convinced her that she should retreat under the blanket. _Not drunk anymore. Definitely hungover._

Tifa snapped her eyes open, reacting to Aerith's heavy handed movement of setting the water glass down and shoving her pillow comfortably underneath her as she tossed herself lazily over it, flopping her arm down and her hand coming to a rest inches from her friend. Tifa flinched slightly, and masked it by straightening out the tacky tourist tee shirt she has pulled on. _Odd._ _The ceiling isn't that interesting._

Her throat felt raw, and her voice hoarse when she finally spoke up – albeit into the pillow, “Must not've gotten too wild last night. M'still dressed. No stranger in my bed.”

She watched as Tifa pursed her lips, noticing that she didn't roll to face her, like she usually did. “Can't be a bad thing, though. Waking next to me-” Tifa's cheek twitched, the corner of her mouth lifting and a sliver of a smile replaced the expressionless expression when Tifa turned her head slightly, to look her in the eye. Her chest fluttered, finding herself unable to discern whether or not Tifa was playing a little coy. “-Drunk you seemed pretty insistent on the idea...”

 _There._ The smile grew into a grin. The type that Aerith secretly wished to see at the start of every day, fair skin bathed in the late morning sunlight. Aerith smacked her bicep, hiding her own bashful smile in the pillow. She supposed she should try to get a sense of last night, embarrassing truths and all.

“Did you have to kiss me?-” Aerith asked quietly into the pillow, “...-to rescue me. I mean.” _Unusual for me to feel like this. I feel flustered. Wow, okay. Face feels like I'm blushing. What must I have said last night? Don't remember much after the third tequila...Why hasn't Tifa answered yet?_

Tifa inhaled a little deeper, and broke the weighted silence speaking softly, “No...no. You seemed like you were enjoying his company - though I wasn't far off- ” Tifa had to be teasing her. _Right? She won't look at me but she's smiling!_

Aerith's jaw slacked, hung open while she berated her brain for being unable to make sense of the few words that Tifa was speaking. She pulled her head up from the pillow, willing the woman to look at her. “What do you mean?”

“You're an unfiltered drunk,” Tifa said, laughing awkwardly into the back of her hand as she scratched her nose, “

“Piss off, Tifa.” Aerith groaned, rolling her eyes as she reached behind her for a spare pillow, “-What happened last night? Obviously you know better than I do-”

“I wish I could've recorded it on video, honestly...-”

_WHACK._

Her body protested her resolve to hit Tifa with the pillow, and a sharp ache spanned between her temples. Though Tifa threw up her elbows to block the plush assault, it was worth it. For the uncertainty and frustration; and the feeling like she is being played like a violin. Except, Tifa is a piano player. Or so she says.

Tifa let out a shrill laugh, “Ah-! Hey! Stop! Aerith you-” she giggled, blowing her hair out of her face, “-You had fun! ...Stop! That's all I care about!-”

Aerith huffed, shakily resting the side of her head into her palm. “Good 'cause I don't remember shit. Sorry if I said anything to upset you.” She offered another smile. Perhaps she was overcompensating.

Tifa looked at her again. Her brows were knitting, she inhaled one breath as she looked momentarily confused before she straightened herself, rolling over onto her side. Like she was opening herself up to a more fluid conversation. “No, no...you didn't.” She smiled, shuffling in closer from the edge of the bed. She reached for Aerith's hand, stroking a nail lightly over the back of it. “I brought you back here after your fifth or sixth round. You wanted to stay out, of course.”

Flashbacks of the previous night crossed her mind, of early in the night before Cloud had joined them and before she lost count of how many drinks she had drank. “You're my best friend too.” She replied, waiting for Tifa's gaze to find her own. “-Thanks for coming out. You're really great.” She felt bad. Not because of the hangover – no. Self inflicted ailments of this sort deserves no pity. But sorry for having presumably left Tifa at the bar, alone. Knowing full well that Tifa doesn't like crowded spaces. She felt much like she had taken advantage of Tifa's kindness and acted selfishly. They didn't have a night out. She did.

The brawler cocked another smile, “You...you might have said a few things.” And then it faltered a little, again. Her eyes zoned in on some loose thread on the seam of her pillowcase, “I mean- it's not anything you would've meant much by. I think. Doesn't matter.”

“Yeah... I was just trying having fun last night,” Aerith trailed off. She can't tell if she outed herself to her friend based off of Tifa's body language; the pit in her stomach suggests that way by judging Tifa's behaviour... though that could also be her brain protesting about dehydration in tandem with an irritated and queasy stomach. Not like it matters either way, given Tifa's display of indifference. She's in the room with her – yet she could be on the beach or swimming. “I don't look forward to seeing him, ever.”

Tifa reached over, and rubbed her arm. Calloused, her hands brought a comforting touch and a calm. Safety. The lay in silence side by side; the noise from the streets below echoing in their room. The gentle breeze causing the curtains to flutter open. Beyond them, Titan's fiery wheel buckled into the immensity of the sky shining onto yatches lolling rhythmically in a cerulean distance.

Tifa looked up, smirking when she raised a brow to question what she found amusing. She screwed her nose up, “Brush your teeth.” She said, mocking her gag reflex, “It smells worse than it did last night. Not sure how that's possible...”

“Rude!” This time she was quicker with the pillow and _somehow_ caught Tifa unaware, hitting her three times as weariness returned, “Tell me I managed to get you a little drunk... so it wasn't a completely wasted night?-” Aerith called to her, slightly winded and slumping back onto the bed. The bed croaked as it redistributed the absence of Tifa's weight when she padded across the floor, into the bathroom. She returned a moment later with a toothbrush and paste.

Tifa fumbled with the cap on the tube, squirting a small amount on the bed of bristles, “'Fraid not,” She replied loftily as Aerith took the toothbrush.

Mumbling, she stuck the brush in her mouth and worked the paste into a lather. “Have we decided when we're gonna leave?”

Tifa paused, standing in the bathroom door, “Barret suggested we stay another night.” She disappeared again, returning this time with a mirror and a hairbrush and then sat on the edge of the bed.

She took the mirror, cringing at the messy reflection peering back at her. Her hair resembled more of a crow's nest than an actual do; strands of tangled brunette pulled out of the tie and matted at the back of her head. “It's going to take _at least_ that long to fix my hair.”

And Tifa was gone again, taken hostage by the thoughts hidden behind the veil of her eyelashes – staring at the floor.

“Tifa,” She cleared her throat. “Tifa, What's wrong?”

She seemed startled by the question, and her eyes narrowed when she looked up. She hesitated, chewing on her lip before answering, “Just thinking...worried, mainly. About leaving here.”

“I get that,” Aerith replied, crossing her arms around her knees, leaning toward her. “I should get up. Shouldn't waste the day away in bed.”

“No-” Tifa regarded her, “Take the time you need. We all need our rest.”

“Yeah. Still though, its a shame we can't stay longer...”

“Yes, but – We can't afford that.”

Aerith considered her, “We'll afford it next time.”

Tifa looked up, “Next time?”

“Sure. When we're done with... this. After we're finished with Sephiroth. You're not getting rid of me.” Aerith said quietly.

“I-, I mean, We wouldn't dream of it!” She smiled softly, squeezing Aerith's shoulder and her voice just as faint. “Yeah. Let's come back here.”

“We could do something crazy-”

“-Can we stay away from the bars please-”

_Thud._

“ _-_ Ow.”

Aerith shoved her from the bed, “-I was going to suggest that we start a business together.”

“Flowers seemed like a good niche in Midgar. But not here. Not really...” Tifa said, rolling onto her side - taking residence on the shag rug. “I guess we could try beach side sports. Souvenirs.”

“Oh! Beach side sports! We could rent out jet skis, boats. You could probably sell surfing lessons...”

Tifa snorted, “You have entirely too much confidence in me.” _Tifa. You and your self conscious smile..._

“I'm being serious. Let's do it. We could make vacations affordable for normal folk.”

“What do you mean?”

“You said it yourself, we can barely afford to stay here. Everyone else here is probably marking up their services seven-fold from what they actually cost...greedy.” Aerith shook her head in contempt, “We can change that! Everyone deserves a break – not just the elite.”

“I'd like that. Yeah...” Tifa trailed off.

“But?”

She sighed, “...We're winging it on a hope and a prayer.”

“-Can't do much to change that.” She offered.

“I'm terrified, Aerith. We used to plan for weeks, in Avalanche-”

She didn't normally make promises to others as a rule, especially not ones that she knows she can't guarantee. They only seem to serve as fuel for heartache but... “-I promise you, things will get better.” She slid out of the bed, crawling onto the floor behind her; curling her arm under Tifa's and around her waist. She squeezed and Tifa shimmied closer, her back flush against Aerith.

“Beach, later?” She hummed.

Aerith nuzzled into Tifa's shoulder, “You want a rematch against Yuffie.”

“Naturally.”

 

 

* * *

 

Tifa heaved herself from the floor and peeled from Aerith's arms a little later, following the Ancient's claims that she was ready to clean herself up. Unsure of how long Aerith intended on taking, and bored of the room's décor, she jogged down the staircase.

She thinks she's thankful for the amount that Aerith drank last night – she still doesn't know if she should approach her about some of the things that slipped free and into the world from her lips. Specifically, she wanted to know if what was said during the arduous walk back from the club had any roots in fact. Even if Aerith had just apologised for having said _anything_. Awkward. There should be some truth hidden among it all; Oh the things that Tifa has heard let slip from her patrons while she was bar-tending – and certain without a shadow of doubt that those tongues were truthful, too. _Odin._

“Tifaaa!” A familiar shriek.

Tifa jolted, and the owner of the voice barely stopped herself from crashing into her.

“Ya deaf? Wus hollarin' at you since you stepped outside.”

“Sorry. Lot on my mind.” Tifa replied vacantly.

Yuffie snickered, “Yeah I heard.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Tifa's face reddened. _Thank gods for sunburn._

The girl backed away, holding her hands up in truce. “N-nuthin'! Barret said you an' Pixie Dust looked like you had...fun? Yas! You had f-u-n last night.”

“Yep. We did-” Tifa frowned, scouring the beach for Cloud and the others.

“Uh huh uh huh and?!” Yuffie responded eagerly, standing on her tip toes and prancing in circles around her as Tifa walked into the sand, “Please tell me ya kissed her?!”

Tifa stopped mid stride, “No.”

Yuffie leered closer, nudging Tifa's side. “But you want to...”

“...” She couldn't for the life of her, find _any_ words.

“I knew it, I knew it!” The ninja sang, dancing jubilantly now and attracting the attention of those lying on their towels, “Tifa and Aerith sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I... -!”

“-Sssssh! Yuffie, shut up. Please.” Tifa said, grabbing the girl by the elbow and steering her away from the volleyball crowd, “We're good friends. Please, be quiet.”

Yuffie yanked her arm free of her grip, “Pssssh. Thas a load of tripe. Coward.”

 _Act normal. Be cool._ Tifa forced herself to look in Yuffie's direction, “No. You're wrong. If I wanted to, I would. Nothing to be scared of.”

“You so full of shit your eyes 're almost brown, boobs.”

“What kinda shit you talkin' girl?” A deep voice to her rescue. Barret.

“Askin' Tifa if she laid out Aerith yet.”

She thwarted herself from lunging, though Barret threw his arm in front of her anyway. Yuffie deserved a glare, at the very least for that. She pondered the logistics of rendering her unconscious and burying her under the sand.

Barret coughed, glances darting between Tifa, the inn and Yuffie, “'Right well. Hate to drag it back to reality but we gotta lead. The ice cream vendor swears on his old lady's life that he seen Sephiroth here yesterday. Came up from the ocean dressed in black. Sword longer than his hair. That's our boy.”

“Did they get eyes on where he went?” Tifa quizzed.

“Not 'xactly.” He replied, pausing to run a hand through his braided hair and wiping the sweat from nape of his neck, “Geezer said he had tickets for the Golden Saucer. Bit late now to head that way now. We leave for Corel tomorrow.”

“Ya know what that means!” Yuffie herded Tifa, “C'mon ya lunk, get in line for that court over there. We got a score to settle.”

"You're going down, girl." Tifa muttered.

"I thought you were...-" Yuffie wailed, shoved hard into the hot sand. "Wah! Tifa you SALTY as hell today."

Barret chortled, “Dun hurt her Teef. She means no harm.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the short chapter and longer delay.


End file.
